A King Imprisoned
by Princepen
Summary: Re-posted: An eternal battle between good and evil draws Captain Picard into a dark world from which he may not escape.
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

 **The Planet El Auria…Centuries Ago**

Her grandmother leaned over the child lovingly, enfolding her in her arms. The scratchy skin of her brown-skinned hand gently glided over the young girl's smooth face as she hugged her tightly. Intelligent six year old eyes looked attentively up at the old woman. She knew her grandmother did not have long to live. There were many things the girl knew intuitively; and many of the elders, including her father, said she was gifted in that way.

"Your father told me you went up on the mountain yesterday," her grandmother said as though reading the girl's mind. Of course, her grandmother had the gift too.

The girl nodded silently, keeping her dark brown eyes focused respectfully on the lined face above her.

"You must be careful, young Guinan. For there are many dangers in this world. And soon I will be gone and will no longer be able to protect you. And your father is too consumed with his work to keep an eye on you."

"I saw the pool up on the hill," said Guinan. "It was so beautiful. And it was so hot yesterday. I just wanted to dip my feet in the pool."

"And what would you have done if you had fallen in?"

"Momi, I do know how to swim!"

"You are basing your assumption on the premise that the pool was filled with water."

Guinan looked at her grandmother in confusion. "What else would it be?"

The old woman smiled faintly. "Tell me, child, how many times have you been up to the top of that hill? Ten times...perhaps twenty?"

Guinan nodded yes.

"And have you ever seen that pool before yesterday?"

Guinan squeezed her eyes shut, trying to remember, then slowly shook her head no. Her eyes grew wide again. "How did it come to be there, Momi?"

"Maybe you saw what you wanted to see, child. You must be careful."

"You mean because I was hot and tired, I saw a pool of water? But you told me that the things I create with my mind are good things; that they are my own."

A shadow passed across her grandmother's face. Was it fear? She pushed Guinan away and gripped her shoulders tightly, looking deep into the girl's eyes. "You did not create what is up on that hill, and you must promise me that if you go again, you will keep your heart open and free, and filled only with love."

"Why, Momi? Why are you so scared?" Despite her usually calm disposition, Guinan felt her lips begin to tremble.

Her grandmother sighed. "Your father does not believe in such things. He has forbidden me to tell you of the old ways."

"Oh," said the girl. She settled back in her grandmother's arms, and fell silent. "But…father never asks me what we talk about. Like you said, he is too busy with his work. Don't you want me to know the old ways?"

Her grandmother rested her chin on the top of Guinan's head, deep in thought for a few moments. "Yes, I do," she said after a time. She gently pushed the girl to her feet again. "Go and close the door. Then come back, and I will tell you a story."

Guinan jumped up, excited, and ran to the door, pushing it closed. It was heavy, not like the doors in the newer buildings. Everything about her grandmother, including where she lived, seemed ancient. She turned to face her grandmother and then walked back slowly to sit down across from the hunched figure. "Is the story you are going to tell me true?" Guinan asked.

Her grandmother's face grew sober. The firelight seemed suddenly to ebb, and Guinan felt what could have been a chill pass through the small house. Or it could have been her vivid imagination. "Yes, it is true," said the old woman. "But sometimes I wish that it was not."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

 **El Auria (1850 in Earth Years)**

"Paren, it was irresponsible for you to create this device and then hide it away."

"I didn't build it so that the people on this planet could have a toy to play with, mother." At three hundred years old he did not appreciate being scolded by his mother, but he knew this was simply her way.

"Then why did you, son?"

 _To find my wife, who has run away from me and deserted her daughter,_ he thought, but did not say aloud. He moved around inside his workshop, wishing that his mother would leave him be. "It is to be used only when necessary; a method of enhancing the gift...for those of us who have it," he explained, since she remained standing in the doorway expectantly.

"Your daughter has the gift," his mother reminded him. "She may already be capable of shifting dimensions on her own."

"For now she is much too young," said Paren. "Perhaps when she has grown older…."

"And then when she is older I hope you will let her be free," said his mother.

His eyes narrowed as he watched her watching him. "Free? Like her mother?"

"You must not punish the girl for the way her mother behaved. When she is ready to use her abilities, you must allow her to do so, son."

Paren nodded, but there was still hesitation in his eyes. "You are right," he said, although his eyes were still cold. First his wife, Guinan's mother had left them alone to travel the galaxy as though she didn't have a care in the world; as though she didn't have a family. And as usual, his own mother could not even show him the compassion to understand that he did not want to lose his child as well.

"Good," his mother said simply. "Because someday, this world may need her help."

* * *

 **Enterprise 2366**

"So I've been having these headaches," he said moving in swiftly. His opponent stepped to the side and he adjusted his blade just in time to deflect her blow. She had been practicing, he noted slightly impressed. Only slightly.

"I don't suppose you've mentioned this to your physician?" Guinan asked, as they stepped back into position.

"No," said Picard, raising his blade and dropping it before resuming the ready position.

"How do you think she would feel to know that you're telling me?" She advanced brazenly, and he shuffled backward.

"Taking this rather seriously today, aren't you?" he asked, fending her off again.

"You still haven't answered my question, Captain," the bartender pressed him.

"Well, she might feel a bit left out," he admitted, pausing. Guinan jumped toward him suddenly, and he deflected the blow, before landing a point against her torso. "What was that all about?" he snapped, beginning to feel rather annoyed.

"You said you had a headache, and you are obviously distracted by emotional concerns...so I am just capitalizing on your weaknesses," she said.

"Emotional _concerns_! Well I've had nothing of the sort," he protested, now on the attack.

"If you say so, Captain," said Guinan. "But if I were you, I would talk to Doctor Crusher. Emotions can be powerful things. I'm reminding you of this, because you are so good at hiding them. It doesn't mean others are as talented at doing so."

"Pause program," he shouted. It didn't occur to him that there was nothing to pause, for they were the only moving parts to this particular holodeck program. "Guinan, what the hell are you getting at?" he demanded, ripping off his fencing mask. He pulled off his sweaty gloves and threw them on a nearby bench.

His friend's expression was innocent. "Relationships can be difficult, Captain. I am just trying to lend a hand."

He glowered at her and ran a towel over his face, before draping it angrily around his neck. He sniffed, and continued to stare her down, but she remained silent. "I appreciate your counsel…but right now I don't need it. And my headaches, I assure you, are not being caused by my _emotional concerns_ —not that I have any," he added quickly. Picard threw her a towel, which she caught easily and watched him walk away.

"All the more reason to see a doctor then," she called after him as he exited the holodeck.

* * *

 _Captain's Personal Log Star Date_

" _Having just completed rather difficult political negotiations on the newly admitted Federation member planet Vidian IV, the crew is resting briefly before our next mission. While we await our orders, my command officers and I have been invited down to the famed Vidian Gardens to take part in a traditional spring celebration…. I admit I am slightly reticent to participate in what appears to be a religious ceremony, and I continue to have reservations about the Vidians' readiness to enter the Federation, however-"_

The door beeped. Someone was requesting entry to his living quarters. Jean-Luc Picard blinked in annoyance, and slid his chair backward. The arrival of another person reminded of his irritating conversation with Guinan earlier in the day. "Computer, pause," he said. "Come in," he said, addressing the doorway, and getting to his feet.

He moved around the desk, nodding as his visitor walked in, his annoyance turning into something more complex. He knew what this was going to be about, and yet, as usual, he felt he was at a disadvantage.

Beverly Crusher walked slowly toward him. "I was on a break, and thought I'd come by to talk," she clasped her hands in front of her as thought about to begin a monologue. "I hope that I'm not interrupting your work, Captain."

He smiled and walked closer to her. He knew that using his formal title while they were alone was something of a subtle dig, despite the neutral expression present in her features. He had been distant lately he knew, just as they were beginning a tentative romantic relationship.

Several weeks ago, believing that death may have been imminent, they had admitted their long secret love for each other and then had made love for the first time. The danger had passed, and they had taken a vacation together on Risa, with other various crew members tagging along. Now, the pace had slowed considerably, and they both knew it.

"No, please do come in," he said with a smile.

She took his offer of a seat. He sat down across from her and waited for her to speak. She hesitated and took a deep breath before starting. "Look, Jean-Luc; I can see that you've taken a step back…which is fine. Of course this is very new for both of us. Everything happened so quickly during the whole ordeal with Claudia…all I'm trying to say is that… well maybe we did rush things." She looked at him searchingly, hoping he did not decide to retreat further from her.

His smile faded slightly, and he looked down. "There were moments that I feared I would never see you again," he said quietly, examining his hands. "And because of that belief, perhaps I acted in ways I would not normally. Perhaps we both did." He looked back up at her. "But I don't regret anything I said to you…nor do I regret that we…." He swallowed and trailed off. His strange headache was slowly creeping back into his skull, making his thoughts feel a bit cloudy. He blinked again.

Beverly sighed, and looked relatively relieved, not seeming to notice that his discomfort may have been physical. "I don't regret anything either. I just have noticed you've been quite distant since we returned from Risa. I know I've been quiet as well. I've been thinking a lot about what happened to Allen."

Picard rubbed his hands on his trouser legs. "I'm sorry, Beverly," he said quietly. "Have you spoken to Counselor Troi about it?" He saw a brief expression of embarrassment flash over her features, and he cleared his throat. "Of course, I am always here if you need to talk. I wasn't trying to suggest that you needed to see Troi—or that you couldn't talk to me about these sorts of things, because of course, you can…."

To his surprise she laughed abruptly and reached over and put a hand on his knee. "I know I can, Jean-Luc. I know…." She smiled gently at him, and he took her hand. "And I also know that discussing private subjects makes you uncomfortable, so I try not to blindside you with them. But I do enjoy talking with you." He smiled back at her, and they fell into a more comfortable silence. He was beginning to feel more comfortable lately just being with her and not feeling the need to speak.

Beverly frowned as she studied his face. Dark circles were beginning to form under his eyes. "You look so tired," she said, and reached out to touch his face.

As if on cue, he retrieved his hand from hers and covered his mouth as he yawned. He shrugged slightly. "I'm fine," he said trying to sound reassuring. "In fact, I am sleeping so soundly, I haven't dreamt in…." he trailed off, realizing he couldn't remember having dreamt at all since their return from Risa. This was actually disappointing since he rather enjoyed dreaming about Beverly.

 _I'm fine,_ he'd said. Beverly was learning to ignore these small lies he told, and instead of letting this one anger her she simply pressed him for a more convincing answer. "Is it the Vidian situation? I know it's been stressful for you, but at least it's over now. Another success no doubt," she said brightening. "Of course there are bound to be some bumps along the way for any new Federation society."

He stood up. "I suppose the final negotiations have been on my mind…but you are right of course; the Vidians have made their case, and passed the requirements for membership."

She stood up. "Jean-Luc, I can tell you're still troubled. You are trying to convince yourself, but you don't believe they should be Federation members yet. Why?" she asked curiously.

He faced her. He was trying to make the effort to be more open, less distant. But he was used to being a solitary person. Despite his indignant response to Guinan, lately he had been having doubts, despite his new closeness to Beverly. It was difficult to undue years of his belief that they would never be together. Now that they were together—at least now that they were making the attempt to be together, he had to get past these insecurities. He touched the desk top lightly with his fingertips. "I don't think the Vidians are ready," he admitted. "I know they have an established democratic government, have demonstrated a commitment to Federation principles…."

"And warp capability," Beverly added. "Not to mention a highly advanced system of medicine."

"Yes…" he agreed.

She frowned, and then gave him a puzzled smile "So then in what ways have they not met your standards, Captain?" She thought a moment while watching him. Then it dawned on her. "It's their devotion to their religion, isn't it?" He made a dissatisfied face, but said nothing. She hit him on the forearm lightly. Was Jean-Luc Picard capable of intolerance? Rarely did she have a glimpse of him as a person with human prejudices. "Captain! What does the Vidian religion have to do with their readiness to enter the Federation?"

He folded his arms over his chest and stared at the floor for a moment before slowly raising his eyes to meet her curious gaze. "Beverly, centuries ago we learned the hard way again and again that mixing government and religion had mostly disastrous consequences. More often than not it led to despotism and sanctioned intolerance and ignorance in every corner of the Earth. I simply do not understand how a supposedly advanced society could still believe in such things."

She stared at him in open surprise. She didn't entirely disagree, but was surprised at the vehemence of his opinion on the subject. "But have you studied their religion?"

"Not closely," he admitted.

"Well then how do you know they are clinging to intolerance and ignorance? You of all people, as a representative of the Federation should be willing to give these people a chance."

He shook his head. "Look…Beverly; I just believe that if you _must_ be religious, it should simply be a personal view. There is no place for superstition and religious faith in modern society." His tone was final and imperious, as though he was a teacher and she was his student. Normally, she would be starting to grow angry right about now, but she had had so few private conversations with him lately she decided to let it go. She would let the subject drop. For now.

Beverly Crusher shrugged and shifted feet. "Are you going to get dressed soon? The ceremony is only a few hours away, you know."

"Of course," he said. "Thankfully Commander Riker convinced the Vidians to allow us to wear our own clothing to this event. That doesn't mean I'm excited to wear my dress uniform," he reminded her.

Beverly opened her mouth as if to say something, before closing it again. The pink color on her cheeks seemed to stand out suddenly. Picard watched her with mild interest. Was she blushing?

"What?" he prompted.

"I've always liked the way you look in your dress uniform," she admitted sounding slightly embarrassed.

Despite his immense modesty when it came to such matters, he smiled.

* * *

 **El Auria**

Guinan sat quietly as her grandmother continued the story. She pulled a blanket around her small shoulders. The glow of firelight made the shadows in the darkness outside seem to close in around them.

"Once El Auria formed and life evolved, a very powerful being took notice of our waywardness and she offered us her direction and guidance."

"Orla!" exclaimed Guinan. "She is our protector."

"Yes," said her grandmother with small smile. "For millennia she watched over all life on this planet, until one day an equally powerful being visited, and tried to claim El Auria for his own. The ancient people called him the Other."

Guinan sat staring up at her grandmother in rapt attention. "What happened?"

"The people of El Auria were very ignorant and although they loved Orla, or perhaps _because_ they loved her so much, they feared the newcomer would drive her away from El Auria, and they tried to kill him."

Guinan clapped her hands over her eyes. "Did he die?" she squeaked out, peaking between her fingers.

Her grandmother's face seemed to flicker in the firelight. "Oh no…instead he became even stronger. Their hatred and violence only empowered him."

Guinan dropped her hands. "But…what did Orla do?"

"Orla was so dismayed at the behavior of the El Aurian people that she left us, and did not return for many, many years. She vowed to stay away until we truly learned to heed her direction, which of course was that we practice peace."

"Is that how we became the People Who Listen?"

"Yes," said her grandmother, pleased. "Before we could earn her protection and guidance again, we had to lose her. Eventually we as a people learned to listen, and use those skills to heal others. But it took many years of suffering for the people to come to understand what Orla had been trying to teach us for so long."

"What happened to El Auria while Orla was gone?"

"War, famine, and death. Just what the Other wanted."

"But, Orla returned. What happened then? Did she kill the Other? What happened to him?"

Her grandmother yawned. "I am growing tired, little girl. You will have to wait until next time to find out."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

 **El Auria**

"Even when the majority of the people of El Auria began to see that they had been wrong, they still were made to suffer. Because the Other ruled as a cruel king over the people. He fed off of violence, and when the people gathered together to try and topple him, he even grew stronger. Civil war was widespread now that Orla was no longer there to watch over the people."

"But why did Orla desert us? By leaving the people to suffer she was also cruel," Guinan said with growing outrage.

"I never said Orla was perfect, and anyone who believes she was only capable of kindness does not tell the whole story," explained her grandmother gently.

"Then what made Orla return?"

"She saw many of our people trying to resist the Other, and helping to care for one another. She saw that the people and all of life on El Auria were doomed unless she intervened. And so she returned to confront him."

* * *

 **Enterprise**

Picard stared into the mirror in his bedroom and had to admit Beverly had been right; he looked tired. He sighed. After a vacation and three weeks of sleeping deeply each night, it seemed quite odd. His head was pounding. Perhaps he should just give in and tell Beverly about his persistent headache. But something made him cautious. He adjusted his collar again, but just as he turned to leave his eye caught on a glossy black object lying on his dresser. The artifact. It had changed size and shape several times since he first found it half buried on Risa. This was strange, but for some reason did not alarm him.

He recalled that he had placed it in a small case in his desk, so it was strange that more often lately he found it in this spot on top of his dresser underneath the mirror. He reminded himself to have Data test the artifact in his lab. It was not like him to forget, but yet he had. A sudden irrational fear passed through him. What if the tests Data performed altered the artifact in some way—or even damaged it? The room seemed to close in around him, accompanied by a strong wave of nausea.

But then just as soon as it arrived, the feeling departed. Shrugging, he picked the artifact up, and suddenly felt it to be quite heavy in his hand. He gazed at it for a few moments and marveled at its perfection and beauty. Deciding against putting it away, he slipped it into his pocket instead, and now feeling wonderfully and yet inexplicably invigorated, left his quarters.

* * *

It was the Vidian festival for welcoming the spring season. He just should have known. Picard had allowed Commander Riker to make the arrangements, coordinating with the Vidian government. At least, he consoled himself; he would not have to participate in the ceremony, which turned out to be very creative. But this did not change the fact that everyone at the ceremony, except for the visiting Enterprise crew was naked. Ah, Riker. No doubt he found the situation highly amusing.

At dinner, he sat at a long banquet table, at which the council elders of the Vidian government also sat—nude of course. Riker and Troi sat on either side of him. Directly across from him were LaForge and Data, and to Data's left sat Beverly Crusher and Worf.

Picard gave Riker a sideways glance. "You knew about this?" he murmured uneasily, glancing over at the wrinkled body of the High Chancellor. The Vidians were humanoid, and frankly, he would have rather at this moment that the Vidians resembled something less familiar; perhaps a jellyfish, or some other beautiful creature.

The corners of Riker's eyes crinkled when he grinned, and yes, he was clearly amused. "Of course, sir. I had to really negotiate in order to convince the Vidians to agree to let us wear our uniforms."

Picard raised his wine glass and paused, offering Riker a faint smile. "Have I ever told you how much I value you as an officer?"

Riker laughed. "Many times sir…but always nice to hear again." He grinned again. "The Vidians believe that by bearing themselves, as they were when they were born, they represent the new life of spring—"

"Thank you, Number One, I understand the symbolism." Picard took a sip of the refreshing drink and his eyes shifted and rested on Beverly. She was laughing and gesturing at LaForge who had apparently said something funny, while Data sat between them with a bemused expression. He felt a pang of something powerful in his heart. He truly did love her, more than anything. Why was it so difficult for him to express such overwhelming feelings? As he placed his glass down on the table his eyes fixed again on Beverly, and finally she noticed his gaze and smiled radiantly at him.

Riker was talking again. "I couldn't talk them out of the Final Embrace, though sir."

Picard's head jerked around to glare at his First Officer. "Final Embrace? What's that?"

Riker cleared his throat, and tried to maintain a serious expression. "Exactly what it sounds like, sir."

Picard's eyes narrowed. "I'm afraid I don't follow, Commander," he snapped.

Suddenly uncomfortable under the Captain's piercing gaze, Riker tapped the table top with his fingers. "Once the entire presentation is through the guest of honor—which is you, sir—shares a…rather lengthy embrace with the High Chancellor."

Picard's brow creased as he looked at the Chancellor again, then back at Riker. "So I have to hug him." He sighed and then shrugged. "I've gone through worse, surely," he said as though trying to convince himself.

"Yes, but the embrace is intended to last several minutes, sir."

"Several _minutes_?" Picard said looking at Riker as though he was crazy.

"Yes sir. Very important to maintain the embrace for as long as possible, until the ritual chimes sound, as a display of unity between our two societies, Captain."

Picard harrumphed and drank the rest of the contents of his glass. "I don't suppose I could use a stand-in," he muttered darkly. _Perhaps Mr. Data…._

They quieted and looked up, as the Chancellor was beginning to speak.

* * *

From across the table, Beverly watched Jean-Luc. How he was able to keep such a straight face while surrounded by so many unattractive naked bodies, she had no idea. She supposed that his self-control was one of the things that made him so successful in diplomatic situations, and certainly as captain of a star ship. But she wondered if these same qualities would prove to be a hindrance in their budding relationship. She put the negative thoughts out of her mind, because she knew he recognized his limitations—he had said as much. She knew he was trying. The more she looked at him, the more she wished they were somewhere alone, enjoying each other's company.

"And so," said the Chancellor, "please enjoy this presentation; our welcoming of the spring season and a new dawn for Vidian society."

The table quieted, and the ceiling of the room transformed into a night's sky. They craned their necks upward as three dimensional images of spirits flying through the sky whirled around them. It appeared to be a re-enactment of a love story between two beautiful beings. During the final negotiations, the Chancellor had mentioned several times to Picard the importance of the god and goddess who were believed to be the progenitors of the Vidian people. He assumed that the images above them were representations of the couple's epic journey, which had been filled with heartache and triumph alike. The story, although quite religious and melodramatic, was very touching—if you liked that sort of thing. At some point Picard began to feel dizzy, and he tore his eyes away from the spectacle, only to find that Beverly was staring at him from across the table in the darkness. He stared back at her, feeling the familiar connection growing, until the show apparently ended, and the lighting returned to normal.

* * *

Picard blinked and picked up his glass, getting to his feet. "A remarkable presentation," he said with a genial smile, projecting his voice through the room. He raised his glass. "On behalf of the Enterprise crew and Starfleet, I thank the Vidian people for welcoming us to your world, and allowing us to participate in your most treasured ceremonies…and as you stand on the cusp of a new and exciting era, know that we stand with you, welcoming you into the United Federation of Planets."

There was applause around the table, and Picard nodded and sat back down. The Chancellor began to speak again, about his gratitude, his excitement about the entry into the Federation, and then his speech took an oddly religious turn. "Surely the gods of yesteryear would recognize the blessings we have here today, and would recognize that it is fate that Starfleet sent us such wonderful ambassadors. Captain Picard is not unlike the sage philosopher Rento, who many cycles ago became the savior to our people when he taught us the true ways, that we follow today."

Picard shook his head slightly, and had to struggle to keep from objecting vocally. Then he heard a voice; a mere whisper really. He actually turned his head and looked around, but the people around the table were listening respectfully to the Chancellor's speech. No one was talking to him. He heard the whisper again, and realized he had no idea what the voice was saying. But it was there nonetheless. He shook his head again, feeling a pressure inside his skull. For some reason he reached beneath his dress uniform jacket and found the artifact. He gripped it, and then felt the pain ebbing slightly. But the whisper became louder. He dropped his head, and stared at the table cloth. Closing his eyes he saw an image of a battlefield with dead soldiers all around him. Was he there? And then the image faded, and he jerked his head back up.

Feeling a wave of nausea, and distantly recognizing that the Chancellor had stopped speaking, he got up from the table. The bright colors and lightheartedness of the room returned and he straightened his uniform. Turning stiffly, he scanned the room and found the doorway they had used to come in. His head pounded between his ears, and he just needed a few minutes alone. "Please excuse me," he said to no one in particular and moved to the exit.

He hadn't seen Beverly follow him, but she had, almost immediately. Out in the hallway, he stood with his head just touching the wall. He breathed slowly, but the pressure in his skull seemed to grow now in concert with the whispering voice. He couldn't even tell what it was telling him. Even more than the pain, this was unsettling, for he was not a man who heard voices.

"Jean-Luc?" Beverly stood nearby in the shadows. "What's wrong?" She walked toward him, not waiting for his answer. But he didn't answer, he just stood still. He was afraid that if he spoke the pain might increase, so he stayed quiet.

Beverly stepped closer and placed her hand on the back of his neck. "What's going on?" she said softly, rubbing the back of his neck.

He put his fist on the wall and pushed himself away from the wall to look at her. "It's my head," he said quietly, his voice almost a whisper. "It's very painful," he said touching his temple gingerly.

She took a small instrument from a small med kit and put it to his temple. It made a faint whirring sound and glowed red. "Everything is reading normal, but this instrument is only for emergency purposes. We need to get you back up to the Enterprise as soon as possible. I'll run some more reliable tests."

He leaned back against the wall and sighed. "Alright. But I need to finish the ceremony first," he said.

She pulled out a hypo and injected it into his neck. "Just something for the pain. Now you can finish the ceremony. I doubt that you would listen to me if I told you not to." She smiled at him, but her eyes were full of worry.

He reached out and touched her arm and then took her hand. "Thank you…I am beginning to feel better." He squeezed her hand, and she tightened her fingers in his.

"Jean-Luc, how long has this been going on?"

He looked down at the floor. "I'm sorry, Beverly. I thought it would go away, but it seems to have…gotten worse."

"How long? This is your doctor talking now…."

He shrugged. "About two and a half weeks," he admitted, looking away.

She shook her head, flabbergasted. "What? Why? Why didn't you tell me?"

He looked at her. "I told you, I thought it would go away. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have kept it from you."

"No…no you shouldn't have," but her anger had already left her. She put her hand under his chin. She kissed him once, then again more passionately.

"Please don't hide from me," she said. "I love you."

* * *

 **El Auria**

"Did Orla defeat the Other?" Guinan asked, stirring the soup in the pan. She poured some into a small bowl and then brought it to her grandmother.

"Yes," said the old woman taking the bowl from the little girl.

"How?"

Her grandmother broke into a big smile. "Why with love of course. She defeated him with love. It took almost everything in her being to do so."

 _With love?_ Guinan frowned, but said nothing.

"But something very strange happened when she defeated him," her grandmother continued. "His body shattered and broke into four pieces."

Guinan gasped. "Where did they go?"

For the first time, her grandmother seemed unsure. She hesitated. "One piece stayed here on El Auria. The other three pieces of his body spread out through the multi-dimensions. They still exist, as does the one remaining here on our planet."

Guinan's eyes widened. "The hill! It is on the hill…."

"Yes, Guinan. For now we are at peace, and we want nothing more than that. As long as we can remain such a people, the piece of the Other that lives on that hill cannot harm us."

Guinan tilted her head. "But then why are you so afraid, Momi?"

"Someday many years in the future, this world will see great trouble, great pain. And when it does, the Other will have his chance to return." She reached out and gripped Guinan's small face in her hand. "And when that happens—before that happens, you must stop him."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

The Chancellor's embrace was not nearly as awkward as Picard had anticipated. As Riker had warned, it lasted at least five minutes, but he found that keeping the pain of his headache at bay now took precedence over other minor discomforts. He realized that the analgesic Beverly had given him probably helped him relax, which in addition to his successful efforts to keep from looking too closely at the Chancellor, made the remainder of the ceremony end smoothly.

At Beverly's insistence he beamed directly to sick bay and she immediately began running several kinds of brain scans. He lay uncomfortably on a bio bed as Beverly and a few of her staff surrounded him. The whispering had stopped, but the pain had not. He closed his eyes and listened to their voices talking around him, talking about him and his horrible headache. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly and unconsciously moved his hand underneath his dress uniform finding the artifact in the secret pocket. His muscles instantly relaxed and he breathed more slowly.

"Why is his heart-rate slowing down?" demanded Beverly's voice.

"I don't know, doctor," he heard a nurse say.

She came to his side and touched his arm. He opened one eye. Why was it so bright in the medical bay?

"Lights, fifty percent," she called out, seeming to realize his discomfort. She squeezed his forearm. "Are you alright? I mean, besides your obvious headache. Your heart rate just dropped." She watched him searchingly. "If I didn't know better, Captain I would say you are relaxed. Not a side of you I am used to seeing."

He shrugged. "I _am_ feeling a bit better," he admitted.

"Good," she said, "Now hold still, we're almost finished with the scan." She moved away from him to study his vitals on the wall. "Nurse," she called out. "What the…will you take a look at this? There is some kind of low grade energy field….it's interfering with the scan."

She glanced back at Picard. His eyes were closed again, there was an odd look on his face, and his hand was underneath his uniform. She flushed slightly, glancing at the nurse. What on earth was he doing?

She walked back over to him. "Jean-Luc," she said in a low voice. "What are you doing?" She glanced at the screen again, and saw the field was emanating from a point near his waistline.

His eyes opened slowly and for a moment it was as if he didn't recognize her. Then his eyes seemed to clear. "Nothing," he said quietly, averting his eyes.

She leaned over him, trying to block him from the view of her nurses, who were waiting patiently for her direction. She pursed her lips, and looked at his waistline. She cleared her throat. "Jean-Luc, the sensors are showing an energy field projecting from…from underneath your uniform."

He looked at her. "Oh?"

What kind of game was he playing? "What are you holding?" she asked, her tone a little sharper. She took a deep breath. "Show me," she said.

"It's nothing, Beverly. If there's an energy field, it has nothing to do with me," he mumbled and closed his eyes again.

"Like hell," she said. His eyes shot open as she pushed her hand underneath his uniform to grab his hand. It was clenched tightly around an object.

The heat from his body underneath his hand made her heart begin to race a little bit. Annoyed at her own body's involuntary reaction, she gripped his hand, but he held the object fast, refusing to look at her.

She let out a small, embarrassed laugh. "Jean-Luc, will you _let_ go?" she said through gritted teeth.

"I don't want to," he said stubbornly.

As she gripped his hand, the irrational fear from before took hold of him again. Unconsciously he tightened his grip on the stone. Why was she trying to take it from him?

Beverly's nervous smile wavered and then faded completely. She watched as a shadow passed over his features and his eyes grew unfocused. Then as soon as his strange expression came, it departed. He blinked.

His hand loosened and he let go of the object. She felt it fall into her palm and she pulled it from under his clothing, raising it into view. She frowned and then looked at him again. It was that artifact from Risa. He looked completely mortified.

What had gotten into him? She shook her head and tightened her lips. "Thank you," she said in a low puzzled voice before taking the artifact with her as she departed to finish her scans.

Something blasted from his subconscious and he wanted to scream "no!" in protest. But instead he remained still watching her as she conferred with her staff.

The rest of the brain scan went smoothly, if not quickly. Still lying flat, Picard glanced across the room at Crusher. As she studied the results intently, she looked frustrated. She walked over to him. "I'm going to study these and get a report together. I suppose I will see you later." Her tone was downright chilly, when she handed him back the artifact. "Here," she said simply and turned to walk away.

Picard sat up, wincing at the dull pain in his forehead. "Beverly," he called after her. Obviously he had hurt her feelings, and he wanted to make amends.

She simply turned and regarded him with an expectant, somewhat cold expression. He supposed that he deserved it, and opened his mouth to say something, when Riker arrived in a hurry.

"Captain," he said striding up to the bio bed Picard was sitting on. "Feeling any better sir?"

Picard shrugged and nodded yes.

Riker nodded. "Sir, Admiral Nechayev is hailing us; priority one transmission. I thought we could patch her in to Dr. Crusher's office. That is, if you don't mind, Doctor," Riker added carefully, turning to look at Crusher. Silently he pictured himself reversing his steps right out of sick bay. It was clear he had walked into a tense situation. He had long ago learned to read these two well enough to know when he was entering a potential trap. It was inadvisable to get involved in any of their arguments. In fact for Riker it was just another Kobayashi Maru test- a no-win scenario. And of course, now that they were seeing each other romantically it added a whole new layer of potential trouble.

Beverly closed her tricorder with a snap and moved away from the bio bed. "That's fine," she said barely glancing up at Riker. "I think we're done here," she said shortly.

Picard clenched his jaw as he watched her walk away. He couldn't blame her for being angry with him. He hadn't even trusted her to hand her the artifact. But something…something had come over him in that moment.

Riker glanced at the Captain sympathetically.

Picard shook his head. "Don't ask," he murmured, sliding off the bed and walking quickly away.

"Oh no, sir, none of my business," agreed Riker following as they stepped into Crusher's office.

Without delay Riker switched on the monitor and they stood back as Nechayev's severe features blinked into view.

"Gentlemen," she said curtly. Picard and Riker nodded respectfully.

"As you can guess I am not calling to inquire about your health," she said with her usual deadpan expression. "You have new orders. You are to proceed to the Klingon home world, Kronos immediately to attend a conference of the highest importance."

Picard frowned. Trips deep into Klingon territory were uncommon, even though relations between the Klingon Empire and the Federation had been quite good for decades now.

"What kind of conference, Admiral?"

"Captain, since the Enterprise was transported by the Q entity into system J-25 nine months ago, in which you and your crew had our first meaningful contact with the Borg, we have received intelligence from…unlikely sources that the Borg are planning an incursion sooner than we expected."

"Can you reveal these sources, sir?" Riker asked.

"Surely," said Nechayev. "The Romulans. And even more surprisingly _they_ initiated this conference on Kronos."

"What?" Riker leaned over the desk. "The Romulans on Kronos? This is unprecedented…and crazy," he added, straightening again. Picard shot him a look.

Nechayev was unfazed. "Crazy is as good a word as any, Commander. But I want the Enterprise to serve as the Federation representative at this conference. It is imperative that we leave with intelligence about the Borg, or at least you are to ensure that we leave in as good a position in which we started. We want to know what the Romulans know, and if the Klingons know anything of import, we want to know that as well."

Picard scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Why would the Romulans, who are constantly suspicious of Starfleet, and who absolutely detest the Klingons reach out to us, let alone organize a conference?"

"Isn't it obvious? The Borg have caused the entire Alpha Quadrant to reexamine all of our old alliances and enemies alike. _That_ is the extent of the fear they inspire."

Picard had a hard time believing that the Romulan Empire had no ulterior motive for calling together its two bitter enemies. "Anything else, Admiral?" Picard asked.

She nodded. "The only guideline I will give you is that under no circumstances are you to use weapons technology as a bargaining chip. Everything else is fair play as far as I am concerned, Captain."

Picard straightened. And why would he ever bargain with weapons technology? How odd. "Understood Admiral," he said.

As the screen blinked out, Riker turned to him, and he knew he had a similar expression on his face. "Captain…this is highly irregular. The Klingons must be desperate themselves, if they're willing to allow the Romulans within 10 parsecs of Kronos."

"Quite right, Number One. It seems that as usual, we shall have our hands full. In any case, please meet me in my ready room in forty-five minutes, and we will go over the details."

"Aye sir."

Beverly hardly allowed the door open before she had stormed inside his quarters. It was clear that she meant business.

Picard walked around his desk, glancing warily at the data pad clutched in her hand. "Somehow I have a feeling you didn't just come by to discuss test results."

Crusher tossed the pad on a nearby table. "You're damn right. In fact, my report isn't quite finished yet anyway."

"I see," said Picard. "So you've come to argue then," he said mildly.

"You've been spending more time with that rock than you have with me," she snapped. "Now, I don't intend to crowd you, Jean Luc, but I had hoped that declaring our feelings for each other meant I would get to spend more time with you—that I would get to know you better."

 _It's not just a rock_ , he thought to himself, but knew better than to pick the wrong fight with her at that moment. "I know, and I am sorry, Beverly," he offered apologetically.

She walked toward him slowly. "And now we're heading out on another mission...there will be so many more excuses for us to not spend time with each other..."

"Now Beverly, that's not fair-"

"But it's true, Jean Luc. Now I'm not completely blind to your devotion to that little thing," she said eyeing the artifact in his hand. She folded her arms over her chest. "You've got quite the grip, Jean-Luc…you're a very strong man. Is that what being in a relationship with you is going to be like?"

"Of course not," he said quietly. He really did regret not just handing her the artifact back in sick bay.

"Will I have to wrestle with you each time in order for us to eventually see eye to eye? Because I don't know how I feel about that."

"I said I was sorry about what happened in sick bay Beverly."

She made a visible effort to calm herself down. "And I accept your apology, Jean Luc, but I still don't understand it...it's just not like you to behave this way."

"What way?" he shot back indignantly.

"Like someone who is obsessed, that's what."

He laughed harshly. "Oh...please."

"You can look me in the eye and tell me that artifact hasn't dominated your attention these last few weeks?"

He sputtered. "It's a fascinating piece of history-"

"Which you haven't even confirmed is the Turellian Agate you said it was three weeks ago when you dug it up!"

"I'm ninety percent certain it is..."

"Do Turellian Agate stones generate energy fields, Captain?" They glared at one another for a few moments. Finally Beverly's expression softened somewhat. "It's not like you to be anything less than thorough, Jean Luc," she insisted more gently now.

He pulled the stone from his pocket, and as though making a point, walked over to his desk and put it down. It made a sharp clicking sound. He turned back to face her. "I'll have Data test it this afternoon. I promise," he added. He walked back over to face her.

"What if…what if that rock is the source of your headaches? If my tests, and Data's tests show that it is, will you give it up willingly?"

He forced a smile. "Of course," he said, and meant it.

Her face brightened and her posture relaxed inviting him to walk closer. Perhaps, he considered in that moment she missed him as much as he missed her. "I am truly sorry for the way I behaved" he said.

"I know." She smiled and touched his cheek then slowly traced her fingers down his jaw line. He took in a sharp breath. For some reason when she did that, it made it very difficult for him to think.

Her smile widened at his reaction. "Glad to see I still have an effect on you," she said.

He caught her hand and kissed it lightly. "Yes you do," he said.

She moved in closer and kissed him on his neck above his collar. "Prove it," she whispered.

His hand moved to her hip and he tried to look into her eyes, but she was still kissing his neck. "Right now?"

Feeling his touch she moved closer and began to unbutton the top of his uniform. "Yes," she murmured, and he felt her voice vibrate seductively into his neck.

He almost could not believe it when the words came out of his mouth. "I have a briefing with Riker in twenty minutes."

"Then what's taking you so long?"

 **El Auria**

She was only ten years old when she first saw how heartache could nearly kill a person. Her father had told her over and over to stay away from his workshop, and she had.

Her father's young assistant Tolian was enough to keep her away anyway. There was something…off about Tolian Soran, but what really kept her at bay was her father's wrath. She hated to see him angry. Lately he had spent more time in his workshop building his device than he had at home, leaving Guinan and her Tarcassian razor beast to have many adventures together.

But one evening, her father had not been home for dinner, and the razor beast had not yet appeared. So she went looking for her father in his workshop. She knew that Soran would not be there, so maybe that gave her the courage to proceed. The first thing she heard was the moaning. She slipped through the door, and looked for her father. Wasn't that him? He sounded as though he were in distress. As she entered the main lab, she stopped short.

A large purple orb of energy floated in the center of the lab. Inside the pod was a swirling stream of purple that seemed to turn without end. She walked toward it slowly mesmerized by its beauty and power. She heard the moaning again, and looked down. Her father lay on the floor in a pool of some kind of moisture. He was curled in a ball, and he was crying. "She's gone. She's all I ever had and she's gone," he sobbed. Without needing to ask she knew he was talking about her mother.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

"Why did Mother leave, Father?" Young Guinan asked as she helped her father limp down the path to their home. Despite his prior orders for her to keep out if his lab, he seemed grateful that she had shown up when she did. She could tell he was injured. Where had he been; what had he been doing?

"She left because I wasn't enough for her. Because _we_ were not enough for her," he said looking down at his daughter. Her father had a habit of being unfailingly honest, sometimes at the expense of the feelings of others. Good thing Guinan had already developed natural defenses to emotional pain.

"But why?"

"Your mother is gifted, just as you are. She has always had a great need to use those gifts, often with little attempt at self-restraint. She can travel between dimensions effortlessly or sense how you are feeling, and find a way to help even the most desperate person. Many of our people are talented listeners, Guinan. Others can travel as she does. But none can do so as well as your mother."

"Not even you, Father?"

He laughed. "Oh most certainly not me. My talents lay in the sciences. The ability to traverse the dimensions through the power of my mind simply does not exist in me. But one day, you will see it exists in you."

Guinan fell silent as they approached their home. "So you travel with your device? That is why you created it...to find Mother."

Her father's lips trembled. "Yes, that is why. But I cannot find her. And the longer I search, the more I come to understand she does not want to be found," he said.

She suddenly stopped and gripped her father's hand looking up at him. "Let me try! I will try to find her using the device."

"No!" He bent down and grasped her by the shoulders. "You must keep away from that device, Guinan. I forbid you, do you understand?"

She nodded. "Yes," she said obediently. His eyes began to glisten with tears and then he hugged her to him.

* * *

"Are you going to sit there all day?"

Geordi Laforge sat hunched over a cup of coffee at a table in Ten Forward. "Huh?" he glanced up and then back into his nearly empty cup.

"I said are you going to sit there all day?" Guinan moved from behind the bar and walked over to Geordi's table where he sat alone. "You're scaring away the rest of my customers."

LaForge looked up now with an un-amused expression. "Of course I'm not going to sit here all day…I'm actually expected at a briefing on the bridge in a few minutes." He resumed looking into his cup sullenly as though it held the answers to all of life's questions.

"Let me guess…woman problems again?" Guinan stood and watched him placidly.

LaForge sighed. "You know I thought I hit a low point when I created that holodeck image of Leah Brahms a few weeks ago…but I actually feel more pathetic now that I've deactivated it. It's as though…well I couldn't be more alone, you know?"

She put a hand on his shoulder. "You did the right thing, Geordi. A computer program only goes so far after all. Don't you think you deserve the real thing?"

He looked up at her and his forehead wrinkled as though he did not quite comprehend what she just said. "You mean a real woman?"

Guinan leaned down and looked directly into his Visor. "Yes…a real woman." She tapped him on the shoulder. "Come on, time for your briefing."

Reluctantly he rose to his feet. "Thanks…I guess," he said, glancing back again before moving to exit the lounge.

After Geordi had left Ten Forward, Guinan turned to find she was now alone. Standing there in the sudden quiet, her senses suddenly seemed magnified. She tilted her head and grew still. Her eyes narrowed. Something was on this ship that shouldn't be here. And that thing that shouldn't be on the ship should not have even existed.

* * *

Riker and Worf looked up as Picard walked into the conference room. Riker watched the Captain, as he sat down. He seemed somewhat out of breath, which certainly wasn't like him. And his face was flushed. Despite his slight shortness of breath he sat down in his chair rather slowly. He'd only last seen him about 45 minutes earlier, and at that time he was not exactly on speaking terms with Doctor Crusher. _Oh, this is interesting_. Riker raised a single eyebrow but was careful not to allow his growing amusement show. _Must have been just what the doctor ordered._

"Everything alright, sir?" Riker asked with a serious expression.

Worf looked at Riker and then Captain Picard. He seemed entirely normal to Worf. _Humans,_ he thought.

Picard activated his computer screen and took a gulp from his water glass. "Yes," he said hoarsely and then cleared his throat.

"Thank you. I'm quite well, actually." He allowed himself a small smile. Then his expression immediately sobered, and he tugged at his uniform, tapping at his computer screen.

Geordi LaForge, who had been trailing several steps behind the Captain before stopping briefly on the bridge to brag to Wesley Crusher about the improved warp engine efficiency now entered the room. Geordi frowned as he sat down. Captain Picard's infrared readings were off the charts. "You okay, Captain? You look like you just ran five miles, flat out."

 _Or the equivalent_ , Riker thought, resting his chin in his hand and watching Captain Picard's curious reaction with raised eyebrows.

Picard clenched his jaw tightly. "I assure you gentlemen, I am quite well. Now, if you don't mind I should like to get on with the business at hand."

* * *

 **2153**

"Guinan, please come closer," the old woman beckoned. She reached her hand out weakly. "Come..."

Guinan put down her bag near the doorway and move to sit down at her grandmother's side. "How are you, Momi?" She asked.

"For having lived over one thousand cycles I am strong enough. But soon I will move on to the next world." She began to cough dryly and Guinan handed her a cup of water, which her grandmother took with shaking hands. After drinking she placed the cup down on the bedside with a rattling sound. She took in a ragged breath and grasped for Guinan's hand.

Her grandmother was nearly blind now, but Guinan marveled that as a child hundreds of cycles ago, she had believed her grandmother old. There was no telling just how much longer she might live. But Guinan was never one to deny reality.

"You have become a great teacher of the El Aurian people, Guinan. But you are still a child."

"Momi," she laughed. "I am already several hundred cycles old."

"As I said...still a child. And still you infuriate your father. You have used his device and he knows it."

Guinan smiled. "Yes," she admitted. "I have. But unlike him I have used it for exploration and learning not for obsession. I take what I have learned and I bring it back to teach the people about other cultures and other forms of life on distant worlds."

Her grandmother's eyes seemed to sparkle in the firefight. "But you really do it for the adventure, don't you?" Guinan simply smiled in response. "Then you have not sought out your mother? Don't you want to know where she is?"

Guinan shrugged. "I'm not sure I want to find her. I hardly remember her after all."

Her grandmother's breathing became ragged again. Her eyes took on a faraway look. "You must grow up now, Guinan. We need you."

Guinan shook her head. "What do you mean?"

Her grandmother's eyes turned darker. "I have been to the future...I have shifted over one hundred cycles ahead in time and I have seen...horrible things. They are coming!" She sat up in bed and gripped Guinan's hand desperately.

"Who? Who are they?"

"Unfeeling...uncaring...they will kill and enslave this world and even this galaxy if we allow them. They care only of enslaving living souls inside of machinery."

Guinan stood up. Invaders from another world. "No..." Could this be true? She knelt down again and took her grandmother's hands in her own. "Tell me what I must do to stop them," she whispered imploringly.

Her grandmother shook her head. "No you cannot stop them. Our people will suffer greatly and will scatter across the galaxy when it is all said and done. But if the Other is empowered by their invasion this world will surely cease to exist. His plan is revenge. Yes. It has been your destiny all along, child. Stop his evil before it is too late."

The Other. They had not spoken of him in years, because they hadn't needed to. "How?"

"You must find the pieces of his soul-those scattered across the dimensions when Orla defeated him. There are three. You must find each one. And when you have found them all, you must take them to Orla."

"But...Orla can be found?"

"She exists in an area of space that can only be found if Orla sees fit to welcome you to her. It is called the Mind's Eye." Her grandmother lay back down tiredly. "Only once the three errant pieces have been brought to Orla may you rest, Guinan."

Guinan took a deep breath. "And when I find these three pieces, what about the fourth, which still sits somewhere up on the hill?"

"That is the most dangerous..."

"Why?" questioned Guinan.

"Because it is said that it fell closest to the place where the Other was defeated by Orla. Unlike the other pieces of his body which splintered around the universe it stayed here on El Auria...waiting."

"Waiting for what? Are you saying it has consciousness?"

Her grandmother didn't seem to hear her and continued. "But the old teachings said that once the three stray pieces were gathered and vanquished then the fourth would become inert and powerless. It is said that it may even fade away to nothingness. But remember that if it must be touched, it can only be handled and disposed of with a loving hand."

"So he can be destroyed? Love is powerful enough to destroy the Other?"

"No, no, you should know by now, love does not destroy. Love creates and love transforms even hate; even evil."

Guinan stared at her. Even if she was right how was she supposed to find these pieces? They could be anywhere...

"Look inside that drawer," said her grandmother apparently reading her mind. Obediently Guinan walked over and

carefully opened a creaky drawer. Inside we're odds and ends and a substantial amount of dust. Her eyes fell on a light brown piece of paper which had been folded into a square. Cautiously she unfolded the paper. There was nothing written on it. She turned back to her grandmother questioningly.

Her grandmother gestured to her. "Bring that here." As soon as Guinan handed her the paper it turned into a black sheet interlaced with glowing shapes and points of light. "When I die Guinan, this map will function for you as it has for me."

"It's a star chart?"

"Yes. I believe you will find it very useful. Tonight I depart for a new horizon, so now bid me farewell."

* * *

Deanna walked to the door of her office. She was surprised to have received a call from Beverly Crusher minutes ago, asking for a last minute appointment. Luckily, she had an opening in her schedule. Of course for her good friend, she would have made one.

She smiled to find Beverly standing in her doorway. "Hi," Beverly said with a quick smile.

Despite the turmoil Beverly had experienced recently she looked wonderful. "Please come in," invited Deanna, gesturing to a comfortable chair.

Her friend nodded and stepped into the room. The sat down and regarded each other quietly for a few moments. Deanna crossed one knee over the other and laced her fingers in her lap. "Well, this is a pleasant surprise."

Beverly broke into a nervous smile. "I thought I would take you up on your offer for a session. And…now's as good a time as any, I suppose." She trailed off and her smile faded slightly. She tried to bring the smile back, but now it seemed to Deanna to be somewhat forced.

Deanna leaned forward slightly in her chair. "What brings you here today, Beverly?"

Beverly looked down at her hands in her lap and shook her head. She looked up again. "I don't know, really…so much has happened recently. I uh…I am still coping with what happened to Wesley, and Allen's death…."

"You experienced several traumatic events recently, Beverly. You're feelings of uncertainty is quite natural," Deanna said gently. She brightened. "But you also have good news: Wesley made a full recovery and has been promoted to full Ensign." Beverly smiled at that. "And you have embarked on a new relationship," Deanna added.

Beverly straightened. "It's not common knowledge yet, is it? Although I am sure the rumor mill is turning away."

Troi laughed. "I am sure that not _everyone_ on board is aware that you and Captain Picard are now involved. Not yet at least," she added with a small smile. "How are things going?"

"With me and Jean-the Captain?" she corrected. Deanna's mouth twitched, but she kept her smile in check.

"Overall, to be honest with you, it is wonderful," admitted

Beverly looking mildly embarrassed.

"I was going to say, you looked quite radiant when you came into my office a few minutes ago."

Beverly laughed and then brought her hand to her lips. "Yes, the whole thing is so surprising for both of us, and I feel…very happy most of the time."

"Well, it _is_ a new relationship, which can be exhilarating."

"Yes, it is new. But we've known each other for so many years, that the uneasiness of that history sometimes gets in the way."

Deanna leaned back in her chair. "Is he also aware of this complication?"

Beverly nodded. "Yes, I think he is really trying…we both are."

Troi smiled gently. "That sounds very promising then." Beverly returned her smile but then looked away. "What is it Beverly?"

"Something so strange happened earlier today in sick bay. He had that horrible headache…remember at the ceremony on Vidian IV?" Deanna nodded yes. "And so he agreed to allow me to run a brain scan. Anyway, there was a moment when—when he looked like someone else who didn't even know me. Deanna, it frightened me."

Beverly looked as though she was re-living the shock of that moment so thoroughly, that Troi got up from her seat and took her friend into her arms.

* * *

 **Louisiana, 1881**

She awoke and it was wet and dark all around her. There was a sucking sound as she sat up, pushing her hands into the squishy surface beneath her. She wiped vegetable-like substance from her eyes and nose before taking a deep breath. Thank goodness the atmosphere was breathable. The strange musical language of what she assumed was some species of insect surrounded her. The tiny universal translator attached to her wrist failed her on this one.

Hopefully it would aid her communication better with the humanoid inhabitants she needed to interact with in order to reach her goal. She had attempted a crash course in the language of the dominant inhabitants of this region, but hadn't had time to master anything but the basics. In any case the sound of the chirping creatures was quite pleasant and set her mind at ease, reminding her of a similar species on her home planet.

But where was she? Her grandmother's map wasn't perfectly accurate; that much she had learned in the past few decades, on this sometimes seemingly endless quest. She knelt down on one knee and took a tiny square of cloth out of her pocket. It immediately unfolded into a glowing star map. She touched it to focus in on a star system, then on eight planets orbiting a gorgeous orange-hued sun.

If her grandmother's calculations were right, this was where the last piece was said to be located. There had been only three for her to locate, according to her grandmother.

She got to her feet and took a few paces. There were immense twisting trees all around her in the dark. She adjusted the instrument on her wrist and a pale light emitted from several points on it, allowing her to at least see her feet in the vast darkness. Suddenly, a great thumping sound reverberated underneath her feet and she heard voices. The voices were not close enough for the translator to decipher what they were saying. She hid down in the roots of a giant tree, and watched as the thumping grew so loud that she felt it in her bones. Whatever was approaching was in possession of a light source of some kind, and now feeling a palpable sense of fear, she shut off the light on her wrist.

The pounding slowed and she could now see them approaching. Four immense creatures with block-like feet, four legs and muscular bodies trotted past her hiding spot. On top of each of the creatures sat a humanoid shape—two legs, from what she could see. The clothing adorning each of the humanoids was identical and was pure white. Their faces, if they had them, were hidden by strange pointed coverings—hats of some kind, which were also white in color.

One of the humanoids held a light of some kind, and he lowered it in a sweeping motion in front of him as though he were looking for something. And then suddenly she felt very strongly that she hoped he was not looking for her.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

"LaForge, I will need you to write a report on the Borg propulsion technology, which as we have seen is far beyond our own. It is where we understand them least, and our lack of knowledge in this area is to our great disadvantage."

LaForge nodded.

"I have already asked Data and Doctor Crusher to provide me their assessment of the cybernetic features of the Borg," the Captain continued.

"Just to re-emphasize, this is a conference designed to share intelligence on the Borg," said Picard, wrapping up the briefing. "We aren't there to make friends, by any means, but tolerance must always be on our minds," said Picard.

Worf had been silent for most of the briefing, and suddenly looked as though he could no longer restrain his frustration. "I will _never_ trust the Romulans!" he blurted out.

Picard stood up and glared down at the Klingon. It was not news that Klingons hated Romulans and vice versa. "Mr. Worf, we all must struggle to overcome our prejudices…and you are no exception," he said stonily. He leaned over with his palms on the table. "That said I personally do not care if you _ever_ trust the Romulans. But at that conference I expect you to comport yourself with the utmost professionalism—as you always have. Are we clear?"

"Yes, sir," replied Worf immediately, but his eyes were still fiery.

Picard straightened and smoothed the front of his uniform. "Good," he said sounding satisfied enough. "Please prepare a report on the Borg tactical systems—and one on the Romulan tactical systems as well—in case your distrust proves justified," he added. As far as he was concerned, based on his limited contact with Romulans, anything could happen. "Dismissed," he said to his officers, who all rose from the table.

LaForge and Worf exited quickly, but Riker stayed behind. He watched the Captain carefully. "Sir, are you sure you're alright?" The Captain had seemed short of breath but very healthy when he entered the conference room about an hour ago. Now though, Riker noticed the man's face appeared more gaunt, and his usually hardy skin tone had paled somewhat.

Picard gave him a small smile. "Of course, Commander…I am fine." They glanced behind them as the door opened and Data entered, stepping smoothly over to the Captain. Something very subtle about Picard's expression changed when he saw Data, and to Riker it seemed a bit strange.

Data halted in front of the Captain. "Sir, you had asked me to report here so that I might test your artifact," Data reminded him, perhaps in his own way reading the same expression on Picard's face.

Picard seemed to force out a little laugh, which also was quite unlike him. "Ah yes," he said as though he had forgotten. He reached into a pocket and opening his palm, revealed a small black stone. He glanced at Data and then hesitated looking at the stone again. Data held out his hand patiently, and at that moment, Picard froze in mid-gesture.

The voice whispered through his mind again, and this time although most of the language was still indecipherable, he understood one word: _enemy_. Data's face and body were instantly transformed into a Borg's, and his eyes now appeared lifeless. The bodies of his comrades and enemies lay on a vast grey battlefield. Was he the only one left alive? Picard took a step backward as the Borg advanced on him, the bright blue electrical charge of its prosthesis reaching for the artifact….

"No!" Picard shouted, stepping backward and clasping the artifact in his fist, holding it tightly against his chest.

Riker put a concerned hand on the Captain's shoulder. "Sir!" he said, gripping Picard's shoulder, trying to steady him. The Captain appeared to be in some kind of trance-like state.

Instantly, Picard seemed to snap out of it, and shook his head in confusion. He looked at the officer in front of him, and recognized him to be Lt. Commander Data. He slowly dropped his hand, and nodding slightly as if trying to reassure himself it was the right thing to do, he gave the artifact to Data. Then abruptly, without another word, and before Riker could stop him, he stepped away and left the room swiftly.

* * *

 **Louisiana 1881**

Guinan thought the strangers clad in white robes had moved on, and so finding a path she wound through the trees careful to move her feet softly through the underbrush. She had to find someone she could communicate with; someone friendly who could point her in the right direction. _The teachings tell us the last missing piece of the Other can be found on the planet E-arth, where some of the inhabitants are said to resemble our kind physically, but they are far, far different._ Her grandmother's voice continued to drift in her mind almost fifty cycles after her passing.

By reading the old texts herself, Guinan had learned that the third piece of the Other had passed through the planet E-arth at some time in the year she was now present. The specific place she knew from the texts was called _Mo_ _ʼȯ_ _hta-vo_ _ʼ_ _honáaeva,_ which she could only hope was a well-known area on the planet E-arth. Once the piece passed through Moʼȯhta-voʼhonáaeva in this year, the trail went cold—the piece disappeared. This meant she must find it quickly.

Unfortunately, the combination of the old texts being incomplete, and the inaccuracy of her grandmother's map, may have caused her coordinates to be off. She couldn't know really, unless she found some kind of indicator or was able to communicate with some of the inhabitants. Her desperation caused her to reconsider her attempt at hiding. If she was to find the piece and transport it safely to Orla, her mind had to be free of fear and mistrust. So against her instincts she began to pursue the beings she had previously hidden herself from.

* * *

After Data departed for his lab, Riker tapped his communicator. "Riker to Doctor Crusher," he said tensely.

 _"_ _Crusher here. What can I do for you, Commander?"_

He hesitated. He didn't want to alarm her. "You haven't by any chance seen Captain Picard in the last five minutes have you?"

There was a pause. _"No…is everything alright?"_

"To be honest with you, I'm not sure. We just ended a briefing and the Captain had a moment where…well he didn't seem quite himself. He left here before I could find out if he was alright. I just thought you should know."

 _"_ _Thanks, Will…the computer says he's in his quarters. I'll go and find him there."_

"Alright," replied Riker. "If you need me for anything-anything at all, Beverly, please call me, I'll be on the bridge."

 _"_ _Understood. Crusher out."_ Although her reply was simple, he could hear the appreciation in her voice. He had stopped just short of telling her to be careful. The idea that he might ever need to say such a thing when referring to Captain Picard, was highly unsettling.

* * *

 **Hi, thanks for reading and reviewing. Yes, this is the same story I posted several years ago. Once it reaches a certain point, I may change it up, or may keep it the same. Thanks again, hope you enjoy. -PP**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

 **Earth, 1881**

Guinan reached the edge of a wooded area and saw the beings of E-arth ahead of her trotting along in a clearing full of grass and flowers. She checked her two-way universal translator to make sure it was working properly, and when satisfied it was, stepped out of the woods and hailed the beings. "Greetings," she called out. One of the white pointed hats turned to look in her direction. He cried out and then pointed in her direction. The voices of the beings clamored as they reared up on the four legged beasts one by one and then galloped in her direction. Silently reminding herself again of her goal, she stood her ground despite the thunderous commotion as they approached.

"Hello," she said again, as the group stopped near her.

"What you doin' out here, girl?" said one of the beings, as it leaned down to get a better look at her. Now closer, she could see there were crude eye holes cut into the fabric of its mask. There was also a strange red and white emblem on the breast of its robe consisting of a geometrical figure with two intersecting bars, one horizontal and one vertical. This must be the leader, she guessed, and focused her attention on him. "And alone too…." said the leader.

"Up to no good, I'd wager," another said.

Guinan stepped forward, and the beings looked at one another in mild surprise. "I was hoping you could help me. I'm looking for a place," she ventured. "It's called Moʼȯhta-voʼhonáaeva."

The white hooded figures looked at one another again in apparent confusion. The four-legged creatures they rode stomped their funny looking feet and snorted clouds of hot breath into the night air. Was the translator working properly? Maybe her pronunciation was off. Perhaps she should attempt to communicate with the four-legged creatures instead. One of the horses, as she would later learn they were called, blinked his big brown eyes and long eyelashes at her. So far, she noted, he was the most pleasant inhabitant of this planet she'd met.

" _Help_ you?" The leader leaned down again and she could now see steely blue eyes staring at her from inside the cloth mask. "Why you are in the wrong neighborhood, to be _helped_." He nodded his head in another direction. "Now get on your way before your folks wonder why you gone missing, n-r."

She was suddenly aware of the small but powerful disruptor hidden inside her boot. "I'm just passing through this area," she informed them cautiously. "I am trying to find a place called Moʼȯhta-voʼhonáaeva," she repeated. "Will you tell me where it is?" she asked slowly. The conversation was not proving to be as fruitful as she had expected, and the fearful feeling in her gut returned.

"Ain't no such place as _that_ ," said one of the beings, sounding genuinely puzzled. "Least… not around here."

"Look here, this ain't your side of town and it sure as hell ain't no 'Moho—'whatever-you-called-it," said the leader. "Bad things can happen when you stray from where you're meant to be," said as though counseling her like a child, but the sentiment she could tell was sinister. He gestured to one of his compatriots who rode forward. A coil of rope sat lazily on his thigh. He held a long instrument made of metal and some kind of wood. He swung the pointed end at her, and she was now almost certain it was a type of weapon.

She considered the disruptor again. Just as she reached for it, one of the beings took the long metallic-wooden staff he had been pointing at her, and turned it around, so that the broad end was pointed at her. She froze, unsure if the being was attempting to show her he meant no harm. Without hesitation, and before she could get out of the way, he slammed the butt of the rifle into her forehead, and darkness overtook her.

* * *

 **Enterprise**

He had only just reached his quarters when the headache hit him fully. Ducking inside the door before a passing crewman noticed his pained expression he grabbed both sides of his head and staggered toward his bed. He could not stop the pain, and could not escape the sinister whispering voice invading his mind. Was he going mad? He wished the artifact was in his possession still, because he knew somehow that the headache at the very least would lessen. Why was this happening?

He kicked off his boots and then crawled into bed with his uniform on. He wanted to sleep suddenly more than anything, but if he closed his eyes would he see the Borg again? Why was he hallucinating?

"Jean-Luc? Jean-Luc?" It was Beverly's voice from the living room. A wave of embarrassment came over him. He didn't want her to see him this way. He wanted to be strong. Feeling nauseous he pulled the blankets over his head and curled into the fetal position. Shutting his eyes he saw thousands of dead bodies. An old man sat on a golden throne surveying the carnage. "Jean-Luc." His eyes snapped open again and he was back in his quarters. Beverly tugged the blanket away from his face. She looked frightened. He opened his eyes just enough to see her and then closed them again, making a grunting sound.

She knelt down beside the bed. "Oh honey, what's wrong?" she felt his head. "You've got a fever," she said. "What about the headache? Is it back?" He nodded slowly.

She stood up. "This is starting to really worry me. I'm going to get you to sick bay."

"No," he whispered. "I don't feel that I can move. I just want to lay here."

She didn't look pleased, but nodded. "Alright…is there anything I can get for you? Some water?" He shook his head no.

"I'm going to stay you know. So don't try to get rid of me," she warned him.

"I don't want you to see me like this," he mumbled.

"Like what? Vulnerable? You're not indestructible, Jean-Luc." He made a face. "Oh, I can see I have insulted you," she said with gentle sarcasm. She pulled the covers up over his shoulder. A thought suddenly occurred to her. "Where's the rock—I mean the artifact?"

"With Data," he muttered.

"Did the headache worsen after you gave it to him?"

"Yes."

She sighed and gazed down at him. The truth was she had finished reviewing the brain scan results and they had been completely inconclusive. But she wasn't going to tell him that now, when he was so obviously in pain. She pulled off her boots and placed them next to his. She lifted the covers and got in next to him putting her arm around his waist. He moved his hand down to hold her hand and she rested her forehead on his back. Within minutes they were both asleep.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

 **Louisiana, Earth 1881**

The language was a jumble. The fact that the translator was still working was no less amazing to her in that moment than that she remained alive. Finally she heard something that made sense to her.

"She's stirring," said a female voice. There was movement out of her right eye. Her left eye was blind—or at least would not open. Cool hands touched her face, then let go.

Footsteps shuffled nearby and sounds became louder. Something wet and cool, smelling like herbs was placed over the left side of her face. A male voice spoke close to her ear. "What is your name?"

Guinan mumbled something in answer, but wasn't sure if it even made any sense.

"How old are you?" he asked.

"Four hundred and eighty-six," she mumbled.

"She's delirious," he said. "Talking nonsense."

"It's a good thing you found her when you did, doctor," said the woman again. "Lord only knows what would have happened."

"You shouldn't have moved her," another male voice rumbled, entering the room. "If the Klan left her there it was to make an example of her. Who knows what she done to get her into this mess."

"What she _done_?" asked the female voice. "Willie, you know the only thing she probably done is be black and lost on the wrong side of the creek."

Willie grumbled something and walked away, and Guinan heard the sound of someone sitting down heavily. "As soon as you can see to her, Doc, I want her out of this house before she brings the devil down upon us," said Willie's voice from a corner.

"I don't want to be any trouble to you," Guinan said. "I'm just trying to find a place, and no one seems to know what I'm talking about," she said, attempting to sit up. A pair of strong hands pushed her back down. The vision out of her good eye cleared somewhat and she could see several brown faces looking down at her.

The male closest to her had a pair of circular lenses made of transparent material covering his eyes. He had a neatly trimmed mustache and was holding a strange bag with handles. He gently prodded the herbal poultice which was slowly drying on her face. He took out a brownish bottle of something and poured some clear, sharp smelling liquid into a white piece of cloth before wiping it along the side of her face.

"You see she don't have no sense, Mae," Willie implored his wife. "Askin' the Klan for directions…where you from girl? Where's your husband?"

Guinan laughed at that. "I don't have a husband," she said.

"Well then, where's your daddy?" Willie asked from his chair in the corner.

Guinan settled back onto a semi-soft pillow. Her head and jaw were very painful, and talking didn't improve matters. Her father had forbid her from using the device, but she had a task to complete. _I have to find the third piece,_ she reminded herself. "He's far, far away," she said simply. She watched with her right eye as Willie got up and moved to a square opening in their dwelling. He bent his large frame and was looking outward.

The woman, Mae sat down beside her and took her hand. The roughness of the woman's hand reminded her of her grandmother. "Where you from child?" Mae asked gently.

Guinan thought a moment, and then jerked her thumb upward. Mae nodded and laughed glancing over her shoulder at her husband. "She says she's from up north, Willie. No wonder she don't know what she's doin'."

"I told you, she is delirious," the man with the transparent lenses said seriously, straightening his thin form and stepping backward.

"Well, she's lucky," said Mae. "Because if you hadn't found her lying on the dusty road like that doctor, I just don't know."

The doctor closed his bag and nodded silently, once again glad he had seen the dusty figure lying on the side of the road. He knew he hadn't been the first to come upon the anonymous woman, but fear had no doubt caused many to pass her by. Indeed from a distance she had appeared dead.

"Yes you _do_ know, Mae," said Willie, tearing himself away from watching vigilantly out the window. "We all know," he said. He took his shotgun and propped it against his knee as he sat back down.

* * *

 **Somewhere on an open plain…**

 _He was running at top speed. All around him his warriors wielded deadly weapons with expert skill, clearing the way for him. Soon the enemy would be defeated and he would have only one task left. The enemy pursuing him fired another blast from the cannon attached to its arm. The Borg was plodding, slow, like all of the rest had been. No challenge for him and his warriors, even with their less sophisticated weapons. But he was growing tired of this game, because his real goal was in sight. The fortress lay ahead of him just meters ahead. His Borg enemy still pursued him, and a bolt of blue electricity shot past his head singeing the side of his head._

 _Stopping short suddenly, he spun and swung the long blade over his head and it clanged against a long metal spike protruding from the Borg's arm. The Borg's spike slipped as he spun and it sliced into his neck, through his shoulder blade and down the length of his back with almost agonizing slowness. He screamed in pain and in anger and with a sweeping circular motion, sliced down decapitating the Borg._

 _"_ _Now," the voice boomed. "You must kill the Old King. You must take his place."_


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

When Beverly awoke Jean-Luc had already gotten up. What time was it? She sat up in bed and looked down at her rumpled uniform. It had been late afternoon when they had fallen asleep together in his quarters. She wasn't even sure if she was supposed to be on shift. "Computer, what time is it?" she asked groggily.

"1800 hours," replied the computer blandly. It was dinner time.

Beverly shrugged and yawned as she sat up and looked around the Captain's bedroom. Sparse would be a more than accurate description of his room. Aside from several books stacked neatly on a night table, the room held only a few personal effects. She wondered how he would respond to the introduction of some flowers. She rubbed the bridge of her nose and then shook her head, puzzled by her own idea. Then she caught the scent of something wonderful. She rubbed her eyes, and pulled on her boots, now awake because of the delicious smell of food. She walked out of the cramped room.

The Captain was standing near a small dining table that was nearly spilling over with food. Breakfast foods to be exact. He smiled looking completely invigorated. He took her hand and kissed her affectionately before pulling out a chair for her to sit down.

"I hope you don't mind, I cooked you breakfast." He grinned widely. "I thought that since we've missed a number of breakfasts together lately I should make it up to you. Even if it is time for dinner," he added.

She sat down slowly, somewhat stunned by both the gesture and his newly cheerful disposition. Just hours ago he had looked so ill. "You _cooked_?" She looked up at him questioningly.

He nodded and began serving her. "Well...not _everything_ —most of it I replicated. But I did make you some crepes the old fashioned way," he said sounding rather pleased with himself as he sat down across from her.

"Jean-Luc Picard cooking breakfast...you never said you could cook," she said with more amusement than accusation.

"Beverly," he said with a charming smile. "Perhaps you don't quite know everything about me." He poured coffee into her cup, keeping his gaze fixed upon hers.

"Well..." She admitted, returning his smile. "Maybe I don't. But I have to say I could grow to like this side of you, Jean Luc. I really could."

He smiled back at her and then proceeded to eat without further comment for the next ten minutes, as though he hadn't eaten in days. Periodically he paused only to ask her if she would like more to eat, before returning to his feast.

By his third helping she had grown thoroughly suspicious. By his fourth, she was concerned. "You've got _quite_ the appetite. What's gotten into you?"

He looked at her with his cheeks bulging, and slowed his frenzied chewing. He shrugged. "I don't know," he said, his eyes widening as though he were confused. He put his fork down. "I'm just…famished." He wiped his chin with a cloth napkin. "I apologize for my manners, Beverly."

"It's alright, Jean-Luc. It's just that when we lay down for a nap just a few hours ago, you were so- well you were in a great deal of pain." She leaned forward her hands clasped on the table top. "And now… you look terrific and you just ate more in one sitting than two Klingons." He said nothing, but dropped his napkin on his plate. He stared down at the table, and she could tell he was trying to think the whole thing through. She wanted him to know that she would help him think it through; she would help him to figure out what was wrong. She didn't want him to be afraid to allow her to help him. She paused. "Will said when Data arrived to pick up the artifact you had a moment where you didn't seem yourself. Do you know what he meant by that?"

"Nonsense," he said, sounding embarrassed. He stood up from the table abruptly and began clearing dishes. "Will Riker can be the biggest mother hen when it comes to my safety, you know that, Beverly. He's overreacting, that's all. I've had this blasted headache, and perhaps I appeared fatigued."

She stood up and watched him as he gathered the dishes into his arms, balancing too many at once. "And how's the headache now?" she asked him carefully as he walked to the waste receptacle.

He turned back around and smiled at her. "Gone…I feel absolutely wonderful, Beverly. I can't even tell you…."

"Try," she suggested with an encouraging smile. "Try to tell me. I'm listening, Jean-Luc."

His smile wavered. "I feel fine," he said. He turned back around as though he had forgotten something, and that is when she saw it. Instinctively concerned, she walked toward him, and he turned back around to face her.

"Jean-Luc, turn around for me again. There's something on the back of your neck…are you hurt?"

He frowned. "Of course not," he said, but when she continued to stare resolutely at him, he finally acquiesced, turning back around. She sucked in an alarmed breath. There was an ugly looking vertical wound on his neck, partially healed. It disappeared beneath his collar, and she immediately began to lift the back of his uniform.

"What are you doing?" he demanded, sounding rather annoyed. "I told you, I'm fine."

"You don't feel that then?" she said, trying to keep her voice calm as she rolled up his uniform in the back.

"No," he said. "Just a slight itching."

She delicately touched along the edge of the coagulating gash that ran from his neck, into his shoulder blade and down the length of his back to the right of his spine. "Jean-Luc, you're injured. It's healing—but what on earth happened to you?"

He turned back around and looked at her as though she were crazy. His voice was low as if trying to reason with her. "Beverly, need I remind you that I've hardly been out of your sight today. You touched me there earlier when we were together and there was certainly nothing wrong with my back then. This afternoon I fell asleep. Surely you don't think something happened to me while I was sleeping! You were right there with me, after all."

She put her arms around his waist. "Jean-Luc…I don't know what to think. But this is bizarre. Let me clean it and start a derma repair at least," she said. He nodded slightly, but something about his expression when he looked at her unsettled her. She patted him on the chest and then kissed him lightly on the lips. She remembered she had left her med kit in the bedroom. "Wait here," she said quietly, and gave him another kiss before leaving the room.

When she returned just moments later, he had gone.

* * *

Mae squeezed Guinan's hand. "Doctor Green is the only black doctor in three counties, and a good one too. So you real lucky, let me tell you," the woman told her again.

"Black?" Guinan asked.

Willie suddenly broke out into laughter. "I'll say she's delirious, she forgot she was black. It's okay if you forget for a minute, they will _remind_ you, honey."

Guinan blinked, not having a clue what he was talking about. "Look," she said tiredly. "I am very grateful you saved me from those criminals, but I am just trying to find a place. It's called Moʼȯhta-voʼhonáaeva."

Willie got up and walked over to where Guinan lay resting. "Say what? Mo-ho…?" He stared at her. "Wait a minute, Mae. Go and get Granny."

Mae sighed. "Why you always think Granny can translate anything sounds just a little bit Indian? Don't wake the children," she added with a warning. But Willie had already disappeared into the only other room in the house. A few moments later he re-emerged arm in arm with a stooped figure with tan skin and very white hair. He sat the old woman down next to Guinan's bedside. The doctor stood looking skeptical.

"This is my Granny," Willie said, placing a steadying hand on the woman's shoulder. "Say the word again," he prompted.

Guinan said hello to the woman, who smiled widely in response, but her eyes did not focus on any one point. Willie said "Granny can't see a thing, but her hearing is real sharp," he reassured her and then nodded again for Guinan to speak.

"Moʼȯhta-voʼhonáaeva," said Guinan. The woman's smile faded into her wrinkled face, and she grew contemplative.

Willie seemed anxious and he rubbed his grandmother's shoulders expectantly. Finally she spoke. "When I was a child I spent some time on a reservation as my daddy was a Blackfoot Indian got caught up some mess and landed on the reservation. Cold as all get out up there and there was a whole mess of different Indian folk up there. We near starved up on that reservation. My daddy played cards with a Cheyenne fella…yep that's Cheyenne alright," said Granny. She fell silent a few more moments, deep in thought.

"Moʼȯhta-voʼhonáaeva…Black…h…Black Hills, that's right," she said breaking into a smile again. "That's the place the whites call the Black Hills," she said, sounding satisfied that she had been able to assist.

Willie stood up straight and looked at the doctor who shook his head.

"The Black Hills are too far up north and in the middle of nowhere for any colored person to reach from here—safely that is. There is a gold rush in that land right now and it's likely to be full of thieves, murderers and worse looking for their share of glory," said Doctor Green.

"Hmph," said Willie. "You lookin' for gold?" he said fixing Guinan with a suspicious look.

"What about cousin Billie?" Mae asked. "He's a porter. He'd know how to get her up there by train," she said. "Take a while though."

Guinan frowned. "What's a train?"


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

His mind was slightly hazy; a state he hoped would be corrected once he had the artifact back. He just needed to see it, and then he could return to duty on the bridge. He just needed to see it and then he would feel fine. Despite what he had told Beverly, which of course had been the truth at the time, the wound on his back was beginning to sting and burn a great deal. He tried to focus…he had been with Beverly in his quarters. He so enjoyed her company…indeed he loved her. But then…he had left her under circumstances he couldn't quite remember. Would she be angry with him? He couldn't be sure, because he couldn't even remember actually saying goodbye to her when he left. _"The woman is holding you back,"_ the voice whispered with an assured hiss. He ignored it.

As he neared his destination he struggled to keep himself calm, but he felt almost breathless with anticipation as he walked through the corridors of the Enterprise. He paused and looked from right to left before entering the lab. No one was around—not that it mattered—it was his ship, after all. Then why did he feel as though he was sneaking about?

To his dismay, Data was inside the lab when he walked in. The voice floated slowly from the back of his brain. An ancient language he could not comprehend. Then like a bolt of electricity he heard it clearly: _"Kill the enemy...kill the Borg..."  
_ He took a step forward then as if compelled. He didn't want to kill the figure standing in front of him. The wound on his neck began to burn more insistently and he felt dizzy. He reached up to his neck and his hand came away covered in blood.

Data turned to look at him quizzically. "Captain Picard… I was not expecting you sir. I have finished the tests you ordered, sir."

 _"_ _If he resists you must kill him,"_ the voice said. Picard put his shaking hand behind his back. What was happening to him? Was he losing his mind? "And…what…what did you find?" he said trying to keep his voice even. His face was suddenly covered in sweat, and he blinked it out of his eyes. A jagged streak of white hot pain trailed from his neck down his back. _"You must keep it in your possession at all times. Without it, you will succumb to your wounds_ ," the voice whispered.

Data took the small black stone out of a small transparent container and held it delicately between two fingers. He walked over to the Captain. "After a number of tests measuring the composition of the artifact, including a comparative battery of tests which-"  
"Data, please," said Picard quickly. _Just give me the stone,_ he said silently. "Just come to the point," he said aloud.

Data nodded. "Captain, are you injured?" he asked curiously. He had not noticed immediately, but now he could see that the Captain appeared to be bleeding from his neck.

"No," Picard said quickly, his gaze flicking to the stone in Data's grasp. _"Snap his neck,"_ whispered the voice. _"I have made you strong."_ Picard shook his head distractedly.

Data moved closer. "Captain I believe you are mistaken," he insisted. "You appear to have an open wound right here," he said raising his hand to point at Picard's neck. The Captain's hand snaked out to grab Data's wrist. Data tried to pull his arm back, but remarkably he was unable to do so. "Captain, your conduct is highly concerning. Are you unwell?"

Picard stared at Data as his fingers sunk into the android's wrist. " _Goddamn_ you Data…give me the stone!" He said through gritted teeth.

"Sir, your behavior suggests obsessive personality traits that are highly unusual for you, sir. In addition, your physical strength is currently far greater than normal. Does that not seem odd to you, sir?"

 _"_ _He is playing with your mind. Trying to take the stone for himself,"_ the voice warned him. Picard increased his grasp on Data. "I'm warning you, Data. I don't want to hurt you…."

"At this moment, I think it would be unwise for me to give you the stone until you have ceased your aggression sir." Data closed the stone in his fist to attempt to keep it from Picard, but Picard's grip tightened mercilessly on his wrist. While Data did not experience pain as such, he did recognize when his operating systems were under distress. However, he did not predict the extent to which the Captain would or could harm him, until he felt the servo motors inside his arm begin to rupture. Suddenly Data's fingers opened involuntarily and the stone dropped to the floor. The Captain immediately let go, and scrambled to the floor, grabbing the artifact. Data moved back, legitimately sure that he had not predicted such a turn of events. He watched as the Captain crouched down on the floor clutching the stone almost desperately. Gradually the bloody stripe on his neck faded to a thin, dark line, until it was completely healed. The tight muscles in his back visibly relaxed, and his breathing slowed. He stood up and then turned to face Data.

Data stood examining his arm. There was a bloody handprint on his pale wrist and clear indentations from Picard's fingertips in his synthetic skin. "Data…did I—did I do that to you?" A look of shocked horror passed over Picard's face.

* * *

"Status," said Picard when he walked on to the bridge.  
Riker stood up and turned to look at the Captain. His eyes narrowed slightly. "We are en route to Kronos as ordered sir. At warp six we are scheduled to arrive in 11 hours, sir."

Picard nodded curtly and took his seat in the command center. "Very good, Number One. Let's maintain that course and speed."

"Aye sir." Riker remained standing and looked down at Picard with concern. He lowered his voice. "Captain, are you alright, sir?"

Picard frowned and looked up at him, then he smiled slightly, as if placating his worried first officer was just another of his many duties. "My headache is gone, if that's what you mean. I appreciate your concern, Number One," he said turning his attention to a report from LaForge on his armrest console.

Riker sat down slowly. "Sir...you're not scheduled for bridge duty for another thirteen hours," Riker reminded him. Picard remained silent and kept his eye on the report, occasionally tapping his console.

"Captain..."

Picard looked up sharply with his piercing gaze. "What?"

"Doctor Crusher called up here about twenty minutes ago looking for you, Captain. She said you were injured..."

"Well Mr. Riker it's a good thing for both of us that your duties don't include giving me a physical."

"But don't you think you should report to sick bay sir?"

Picard made an incredulous face. "For _what_ purpose? I feel like a new man." He returned to his report.

Riker looked at Picard closely. Crusher had said she had seen a knife wound on the back of his neck, but Riker couldn't see anything obvious from this angle.

Riker hit his communicator. "Riker to Crusher."

 _"Crusher here."_

"Doctor, Captain Picard is here on the bridge now. And he reports that he is feeling fine."

 _"I'm on my way"_ said Crusher.

"For what Doctor?" Picard snapped. "There is absolutely nothing wrong with me."

 _"_ _We'll see. I'm coming up to the bridge."_

Picard jerked his head to look over at Riker as though silently accusing him of a betrayal he would not soon forget.

Riker raised an eyebrow, but then turned his gaze forward, thinking it wise not to say anything more for a while.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

 **One Hour later…**

Riker paced back and forth in Data's quarters. Data had just finished explaining what had occurred earlier in his lab, and now sat carefully repairing the inside of his wrist with a tiny tool. Riker could not believe what he had heard, much less seen in the last few hours. Doctor Crusher and Lt. Commander Data both reporting a mysterious injury on Picard's neck and back which had now by all accounts disappeared now that the small stone-like artifact was back in his possession. Data had shown him his damaged wrist, which Data said the Captain had caused.

Doctor Crusher was at least attempting to examine Captain Picard in his ready room, and was due to report back to Riker any minute now. Had he known what had happened to Data before now, Riker would not have allowed Crusher to go in there alone. But he hoped that given the relationship between Crusher and Picard, she would be safe. Captain Picard was still on the bridge, and for now, Riker was glad for it. He needed to figure out what to do next without causing a scene.

He turned as Doctor Crusher entered Data's quarters. She looked tired and perplexed. "Why all the secrecy?" she asked.

Riker nodded to Data. "Show her."

Data stood up and held out his wrist. "Captain Picard damaged the servo motors in my left wrist."

Beverly laughed at the ridiculousness of the statement even coming from Data. "How? Why?" she demanded.

"He used his physical strength, squeezing my wrist in his right hand."

She laughed again, but began to feel frightened. "That's crazy, Data! No one on this ship—not even Worf is strong enough to inflict that kind of damage on you."

Data tilted his head slightly and regarded her seriously. "Nevertheless, I am telling the truth, Doctor," Data insisted calmly. "I believe that he wanted nothing more than for me to give him the artifact. I also observed the same occurrence you reported to Commander Riker—that Captain Picard was at one point seriously injured, and only a short time later, was completely healed. It was only after he regained possession of the artifact that his demeanor returned to normal, and his wound healed. I also noted that he did not seem to recall what he had done, including his violence toward me."

Beverly pressed her lips together. She ran a hand through her hair and sat down tiredly. She didn't know what to think. Aside from her own son, there was no one she trusted more than Jean-Luc, and yet she was now put in a difficult position.

Riker seemed to sense her distress. "Doctor, I'm not suggesting that you declare him unfit for duty. But I do think we need Deanna's input before things get worse. With so much at stake with the mission to Kronos, Admiral Nechayev is going to be completely against removing the Captain from the command unless faced with proof that he's unfit."

"And we don't know that he is," Beverly sounding a little more defensively than she intended.

Riker folded his arms over his chest. "Did he allow you to examine him?"

She tapped her tricorder in her open palm. "Yes…reluctantly. But he seemed to want to prove to me that he had been healed." She shrugged, still confused. "And he was right. It was gone."

"And so at least physically he is alright—even exhibiting superhuman strength, at least when he wanted that artifact back from Data."

"Which begs the question, what did your tests reveal, Data?" Crusher asked.

"The object is not a Turellian Agate, as Captain Picard believed when he dug it up on Risa," said Data.

"Did you tell him that?" Crusher asked.

"No. Captain Picard seemed more focused on obtaining the artifact, rather than the specifics of my conclusions."

"So what is it?" Crusher and Riker asked nearly at the same time.

Data paused. "My tests were unfortunately inconclusive. The composition of the object appears natural—that is to say it does not appear to have been constructed by artificial means."

"That's it?" Riker asked sounding disappointed.

"No," replied Data. "I did find traces of something highly unusual; dark matter."


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

 **Earth, 1881**

True to her word, Mae's cousin Rob had been able to help Guinan secure a job on one of the odd transport ground-level vehicles she learned was called a train. Cousin Rob was a porter on board a railroad line, the type of job he said was almost exclusively reserved for Negro males. A Negro, was, she discovered, what the E-arth people of this region believed she was. On the one hand it was good that her physical appearance fit in so easily with the other humans, just as her grandmother had said she would. On the other hand she was learning quickly that she was by no means safe, either as a Negro, or as an alien visitor on this planet. In any case, the sooner she found the piece of the Other, the better.

After the man she had interviewed with at the "Rock Island" Railroad had examined her hands, circled her a few times and informed her that any items that went missing on the train would be taken out of her pay, she was hired as something called a "maid". She was lucky, Rob had told her proudly, for these jobs were hard to get. She was certainly grateful to Rob, who told her the Rock Island Railroad line would get her as far north as Sioux Falls, South Dakota, which he indicated was only "part o' the way there." She would then have to find another way to travel the rest of the way to her destination in the Black Hills.

Rob, a young enterprising man in his twenties told her his assignment ended in Chicago, which is where he would have to part ways with her. He warned her that the way would be dangerous, and suggested she re-think her journey, but of course she could not.

The first day she was on the train, she had managed to learn most of her duties as quickly as possible. The conductor had indicated there was a number of prominent passengers on this train, and everything had to be kept ship shape so as not to displease them. "Speak only when spoken to," Rob had warned her. "And never look them in the eye. They don't like that."

* * *

So on that first day, when she brought fresh linens into the plush Pullman car bringing up the rear of the train, she did not make eye contact with the occupant of the private compartment with the gold inlay on the door. The man sat forward and smoothed his well-groomed beard, watching her carefully with a small smile. Placing the linens down just so as she had been trained to do, and looking around to make sure everything was in order, Guinan backed slowly out of the doorway.

Just then there was a commotion behind her in outside in the passageway. It was one of the conductors. "What are you doing here?" he demanded, red-faced. "The gentleman expressly stated he did not wish to be disturbed today," shouted the conductor.

"Oh," said Guinan, not knowing how exactly she was supposed to respond to this quivering, unattractive human being, who was unfortunately also her boss.

The conductor grew even more red-faced, shaking his finger at her. "You stupid girl," he shouted. "Why I ought to—"

Guinan's eyes narrowed and she squeezed her hand into a tight fist, picturing it punching into the man's fat face.

Suddenly the passenger had entered the doorway. He was tall and dark-haired with a cunning expression and a look of amusement on his face. "What seems to be the problem here?" he questioned.

"Sir," the conductor sputtered. "This maid was here in your quarters unauthorized sir, and I do apologize—"

"Nonsense," said the man haughtily. "She's perfectly authorized as far as I'm concerned."

"But—but Mr. Q-," protested the conductor, stumbling over his words.

"The name's _Quentin_ ," the passenger corrected the man looking annoyed now. He snapped his fingers. "Now be gone you wretched little man." Guinan watched with mild satisfaction as the conductor hurried back down the passageway without another word. "Now," said Mr. Quentin. "I believe you and I have business to discuss."

* * *

 **On board the Romulan Warbird Tavix, en route to Kronos**

"Sub-commander Saris, your services are needed," Commander Tomalak said, sitting back in his chair with his hands clasped over his stomach. His expression, she noted was as typically sinister as it was condescending.

She put her hands behind her back. "So you have said, Commander," she replied icily. "But as you are aware my expertise is in engineering. I have never before been asked to provide services as a prostitute."

"As the humans say, 'there is a first time for everything'," said Tomalak slyly. For someone who reputedly hated humans as much as the most xenophobic Romulans in the Senate, Tomalak was known for quoting human metaphors on a regular basis. "Besides," he added, deciding to throw in a Romulan saying. "'All is done for the good of the Empire'," said Tomalak.

Saris simply stared at a point above Tomalak's shoulder. "And you believe the Enterprise engineer will respond to such…tactics."

"According to Bochra, the Enterprise Chief Engineer, while very skilled and clever is susceptible to emotion."

"As are all humans," said Saris. "Just one of their many weaknesses."

"LaForge had many opportunities to kill Centurion Bochra while they were stranded on Galorndon Core, but he did not. His compassion, as humans call it, will be his downfall again no doubt, when faced with your charms, not to mention your expertise in engineering. You will find out what we need to know about the Borg and the Federation from LaForge."

Saris scowled, but held her tongue. Her cousin, Centurion Bochra had been retrieved from the Enterprise by Tomalak a few months ago, and had paid the price for his cooperation with LaForge when he was executed upon his return to Romulus. "Yes, Commander," she said.

* * *

 **Enterprise**

"Captain, I need to talk to you," Beverly called to him from down the corridor. Crew members slowed and looked on curiously as she hurried to catch up with Captain Picard.

He halted and turned around. He was tolerant of her yelling at him when they were alone, but really _must_ she do so in public?

"Yes, Doctor, I was just coming from the bridge. What can I do for you?" he asked. Her expression was intense as she caught up with him.

Beverly moved out of the way of a passing crewman. "I need to speak with you right now," she said emphatically, but keeping her voice low.

He tried to gauge her mood, but couldn't. She didn't seem angry—yet. "Alright," he agreed. "I was going back to my quarters," he offered. He smiled slightly, hoping that such an invitation might improve her mood this evening. But she didn't respond to the suggestion in the way he had hoped. He saw a hesitation in her eyes, and perhaps something even more distressing. Was it fear?

"No," she said quickly. Seeing the vaguely injured look in his eyes, she reached out to touch his arm. She nodded toward the holodeck. "Let's go in there," she said.

* * *

Once inside and surrounded by the familiar gold grid, Picard stood looking at Beverly with growing confusion. He waited for her to speak.

She was clearly nervous, but again he had no idea why. "Have you seen Data in the last hour?" she asked him.

He shook his head. "No. Not since I left his lab."

She took a breath to steady herself. "Jean-Luc, I just came from seeing Commander Riker and Data. Data was injured by someone. He said it was you who did it."

Picard shook his head and appeared genuinely shocked. "What? Is he alright?"

She smiled and there was obvious relief in her face. Did she really believe he had harmed Data in some way? "Yes he is going to be fine," she said. "But Jean-Luc…I need to hear it from you. Do you know what might have happened to Data?"

"No! Of course I don't, although it should have been reported to _me_ , dammit. Why am I only just hearing of this?" he demanded.

Beverly took a step backward. " _Don't_ yell at me," she said firmly.

He dropped his gaze and ran a hand over his eyes. She could tell he was attempting to calm himself down. But it didn't cause her to feel any more at ease. "Jean-Luc, how long have we known each other?" she asked.

He frowned, as if puzzled by such an obvious question. "Over twenty years…" he replied.

"And I trusted you enough to ask you about Data without making my own conclusions. You know I couldn't believe you would knowingly do such a thing to Data."

He straightened, feeling grateful for her support. "Yes. Thank you, Beverly."

She took his hand and rubbed the back of it softly with her thumb. "So I need you to trust me now, and listen to what I have to say…okay?"

"Okay," he agreed.

"I think that the artifact you picked up on Risa is causing you to do things you would not normally do—"

"Beverly!"

She let go of his hand. "You said you would listen to me…."

He quieted and made a gesture as if to tell her to carry on.

"You would not knowingly hurt Data, and I don't think you acted knowingly." She continued. He moved away from her and brought his hand to his forehead again looking confused and pained.

"I—I told you I didn't do it," he muttered.

"Data says the artifact has traces of dark matter. Jean-Luc it's not even _of_ this universe. It's not supposed to be here."

"The tests were inconclusive," he said quietly. "You don't know what it is." He walked all the way to the far wall. He wasn't feeling right. His mind was hazy again. _"The woman is trying to trick you,"_ the voice whispered.

"And neither do you," she reasoned. She took a deep breath, facing him squarely. "Everyone is noticing the change in you, Jean-Luc. Everyone but you."

"Do you want me to give it up?" He exploded, keeping himself plastered to the wall as he screamed at her. "So that you can have your way?" His face contorted and he was almost unrecognizable to her in that moment.

Beverly's eyes widened. "Yes...I want you to give it up, Jean-Luc," she said backing away from him toward the door. When it opened she slipped out, still keeping her eyes fixed on him.

* * *

 **Hey thanks for your interest in this story, hope you enjoy. Best, -PP**


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Picard looked up as Riker entered his ready room. "Ah, Commander…Will, please have a seat."

Riker sat down across from the Captain slowly but his mind was racing. "You wanted to see me, sir?"

Picard shut off his computer and clasped his hands on the table in front of him. His expression indicated he regretted having to bring up an uncomfortable subject. But there was something else in the Captain's eyes, something that Will Riker did not recognize. "Commander, we are about to embark on a very risky venture…the Klingons and the Romulans together promise to be a handful to say the least."

"Yes sir," Riker agreed.

"And so I need to know that I can trust my crew," said Picard standing up, tugging at his shirt and walking over to the replicator. "Water," he said and a full glass spun into existence. He drank the entire glass in one swallow and then examined the empty glass as though deep in thought. He turned back around and fixed Riker with a probing stare. "I can trust you, can't I Will?"

Riker shifted in his chair uncomfortably. Where was this coming from? "Yes, of course, sir; without question." He thought that trust was understood. And yet, Picard was suddenly questioning it.

Riker watched as Picard absently rubbed the back of his neck where Beverly had said she had seen an open wound…and yet now there was nothing. "Hmm…yes, without question." His eyes flashed suddenly. "And yet you went behind my back…you accused me of _assaulting_ Lt. Commander Data? And you told this to Beverly of all people."

Riker stood up. "Sir, to be fair, I did not accuse you of anything. I simply took a report from Lt. Commander Data in which he said that you injured him sir…in order to obtain the artifact."

 _My artifact,_ Picard thought. "And then what?" Picard snapped. "You believed him?" He poked himself in the chest. "You just assumed that I had gone off the deep end, didn't you?"

Riker's jaw tightened. "No sir. But Data doesn't…."

Picard sat down on the edge of his desk almost casually and looked up at Riker. "Data doesn't _what_? Data doesn't lie? You didn't even consider asking my side of the story. Even Data is capable of making a mistake, Riker."

"What _is_ your side of the story, sir?"

Picard straightened and seemed rather pleased for the opportunity to explain himself. "I went to Data's laboratory to retrieve my artifact—he had been testing it. When I arrived, he gave it to me, and then I left." Picard and Riker stared at each other, and it was clear to Riker that it seemed that Picard believed most of what he had just said. Perhaps he really did not remember what had transpired, as Data had suggested earlier. But something about Picard's insistence made Riker think that at least part of the Captain feared that what Riker was suggesting was true.

Riker rubbed his beard. "Sir, with all due respect. Doctor Crusher and I both saw Data's arm. There were two inch deep fingerprint indentations in his wrist. Your blood was on his arm."

The look in Picard's eyes was one of challenge. "Was it even mine? Did you test the blood?"

Riker took a deep breath. "No sir." He deeply respected Picard in a way that bordered on reverence. The truth is he had not truly wanted to know that Captain Picard could be capable of such a thing. Data had been uninterested in pursuing the matter, and so Riker had decided not to say anything to anyone other than Data and Crusher. He could see now that this had been a mistake. Picard would have reacted differently had he confronted him right away.

Picard shook his head. "You know very well that I am not strong enough to inflict that kind of damage on Data. No one on this ship is—aside from Mr. Data himself."

"Under normal circumstances, sir….but maybe something has happened to you sir. Maybe something is changing you, giving you power that you didn't have before."

Picard walked away from Riker and sat down behind his desk. "Thank you for your time, Commander. You are dismissed."

Riker stood for a few more moments feeling helpless before exiting the ready room.

* * *

When Picard arrived at his quarters, he stood silently for a few minutes. Both Beverly and Riker thought he was dangerous. They didn't believe him. He walked over to his personal desk and stared down at it. Everything was in order, just as it always was. But things were not at all in order inside his mind. He placed his palm on the table and an image of Beverly's shocked and frightened face played through his mind. Suddenly he flew into a silent rage, flipping the desk over, throwing his computer into the wall. Chest heaving, he found his mind was now clearer. He knew what to do now. Beverly had been right. He had to get rid of the artifact. He needed to be free.

He walked into his bedroom and saw it immediately. The small black rock was sitting on his dresser, right next to the mirror. He walked forward and opened a drawer, pulling out a spare combadge. Walking back out to the replicator he replicated a glass of water and then brought it back into his bedroom. The rock was still there. Part of him had expected it to move. He used the sleeve of his uniform to sweep the artifact into the glass of water. Immediately the water swirled with black as though he had dropped old fashioned ink into the glass. His hand shook, and he questioned what he was doing. But he had to be resolved. He had to do it. He placed the glass down and then dropped his combadge into the water. "Computer lock onto my coordinates and beam to coordinates 33.2 mark 4." He stepped back and watched enraptured as the glass disappeared into nothingness.

* * *

 _"_ _Picard to Doctor Crusher."_ Beverly looked up from her work. An image flashed through her mind of Jean-Luc screaming at her like some kind of monster. She blinked back tears.

"Crusher here," she said.

 _"_ _Beverly…are you alone?"_

"Why?" she asked him coldly. She looked over her shoulder, and then felt guilty that she was beginning to feel afraid of him.

 _"_ _I—I want to tell you something…."_

"Go ahead," she said. He sounded very sad and almost desperate.

 _"_ _First of all, I am truly sorry for the way I acted, for the things I said. I was very wrong, and…and I want you to know I would never hurt you Beverly."_

She walked to the small replicator on the wall. "Tissue," she said, and then dabbed her eyes with it when one appeared.

 _"_ _What?"_ he asked.

"Nothing," she said.

 _"_ _I also wanted to tell you that I—I got rid of it. Just like you said. Beverly, you were right. It took hold of me somehow. I was becoming someone different. You were so right…."_

She broke into a smile. "You got rid of it? But how do you feel?"

" _Fine, I feel just fine now. I beamed it out into space."_

Despite her happiness, she began to cry again. "I'm very proud of you Jean-Luc. But I have to get back to work now."

 _"_ _Alright…thank you for listening,"_ he said.

* * *

 **Several hours later…**

He leaned down and touched her cheek with the back of his hand. She stirred and then turned into his hand pressing her lips against his skin in her sleep. He leaned down and kissed her on her temple, lingering a moment to smell her hair. He felt somewhat guilty for coming into her quarters unannounced, especially with Wesley in the other room. But it had been wrong the way things had been left between them earlier that evening. And he wanted her to wake up so that they could be together, making everything alright again. He did not want to go to sleep.

He traced his hand along the contour of her collarbone. She stirred again and then opened her eyes. For a moment there was a look on her face that sent a shock of pain through his heart. She seemed afraid to find him there. Why was she afraid of him? Something he never would have wished for. He shouldn't have come.

Still not saying a word, she sat up in bed and studied his face in the dark looking into his eyes. He held his breath almost sure she would tell him to leave. But then she put her hands behind his neck and pulled him in for a slow kiss. After a few moments she pulled away and studied his face again.

"I'm sorry, Beverly," he said. "I'm sorry for what I said," he insisted.

She nodded. "I know," she said. She kissed him again, pulling his shirt up over his head and tossing it to the floor. She moved over in bed and he climbed in beside her, hopeful that everything would soon be alright again.

* * *

 **The next morning…in orbit around Kronos**

Beverly screamed. Professionally she was used to the sight of blood, but not in her bed. And there was so much of it. She pushed herself away from Jean-Luc who lay curled up with his back to her. The wound that had miraculously healed itself and then disappeared was now visible again as though it had just been inflicted, and was bleeding heavily. The sheets were soaked in it as was the front of her nightgown. Frantic she tumbled out of bed and grabbed for her med-kit. She ran back to Jean-Luc, who grunted and pushed himself to a sitting position, still facing away from her.

"Mom?" Wesley jogged in to her bedroom in his pajamas, stopping short. "Mom! Are you okay?" His mother was shaking almost uncontrollably, grabbing tools from her med kit, while Captain Picard sat naked from the waist up on her bed, and his back was covered in blood.

"Wesley, stay where you are!" Beverly shouted.

"But the Captain…."

Picard felt his neck, just seeming to realize that something was wrong, and then turned to regard Wesley, looking somewhat dazed. He put up his blood-stained hand as if to warn the boy off. "Wesley, please…don't come any closer."

Wesley stood frozen, watching as his mother attempted to close the wound on the Captain's back. It wasn't working, and the wound continued to bleed. He could tell his mother was beginning to grow desperate. "Computer, two to beam to sick bay," she shouted.

* * *

Picard awoke on his side. His right arm was asleep and he felt weak and groggy. He blinked and the lighting confirmed that he was in sick bay. A thick bandage was wrapped around his torso, and his back throbbed. It was the wound. Suddenly his gaze focused on a small table next to the bed. There rested the artifact. The very one which he had transported out into space. It was here.

Just then Beverly Crusher walked into the recovery room. "How are you?" she asked. She looked worried and scared.

"Alright," he mumbled. She had not noticed the presence of the artifact yet.

"Jean-Luc, I have to tell you something. I've tried everything…but I can't stop the bleeding. I can't explain it."

He closed his eyes. "I can. It's the artifact. It's the only thing that will heal this wound."

Her eyes followed his to the table top. A bolt of fear shot through her. How in the hell had it re-appeared? "How do you know?" was all she could manage to get out hoarsely.

"He told me," said Picard weakly. "He told me I cannot give it up without making my wounds worse. He is using it to keep hold of me."

She knelt down beside him. "Who, Jean-Luc? Who is he?"

"I don't know who…or what he is. But he speaks to me. He's inside my mind and he controls my dreams. He makes me fight for him….his enemies. That is how I came to be wounded."

"Jean-Luc, we can't allow that to happen any longer. We have to find out who or what this is controlling you and we have to stop it."

If he was listening to her, it didn't stop him from reaching out to grab the artifact in his fist. He cried out and then brought it to his chest. Slowly the color flowed back into his skin and his face relaxed. A slow smile stretched his features and he closed his eyes. He sat up and stretched out his arms.

Silently, Beverly moved around behind him and began to unravel the bandages. When she reached the skin on his back, she ran her hand over it disbelievingly. The wound was completely gone.

* * *

Ensign Barnes was exhausted. He wasn't sure why. A few days ago he had been assigned as part of the security detail that would accompany Captain Picard and the away team to Kronos. To say that Barnes was excited and eager to prove himself was an understatement. He was absolutely devoted to Captain Picard, who up until this point had not seemed to notice him. But Captain Picard had chosen him specifically for this mission and he could not have been happier.

So why was he so tired? Last night he had awoken to find himself sleepwalking in his tiny kitchen. He had never sleep walked before, at least as far as he knew. And this morning he had been so sore, it felt like he had just played a game of rugby the night before. He examined the strange bruises on his ribs in the mirror. Every now and then he heard a slight whispering. _"You and others will join your captain to complete my army,"_ the voice told him. _"You will serve him when he ascends to the throne, overseeing my kingdom until the enemy has been defeated."_

He tried to ignore it, and hoped it would go away. He knew if he told anyone about his unexplained bruises and voices in his head, he would be pulled from the away team. So it was that Ensign Barnes decided to go about his day as though nothing was out of the ordinary.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

"If we have business together, this is news to me," said Guinan to the strange man. "Do I know you sir?"

The man rolled his eyes. "Not yet…I mean it doesn't matter. We're meeting now, and it must be for a reason."

Guinan had a bad feeling about this. She remembered what Rob had said. "Sir, I should be getting back to my work."

The man reached around her and with a long arm gracefully shut the door to his cabin. "You can get back to serving these ignorant savages tea and crumpets, and reinforcing their pathetic illusions of superiority as soon as we're done talking," he said, sounding disgusted.

Guinan's eyes narrowed. "Well, I didn't exactly have my pick of professions, Mister..."

Q smiled. "Quentin," he said helpfully.

"Mister Quentin…you talk of these people as though you are not one of them. How are you any different from the rest of these passengers and their illusions of superiority?"

Q looked completely aghast at her statement. "I will have you know that any beliefs I have relating to my own superiority are hardly pathetic…and they are _certainly_ no illusion."

Guinan backed toward the door. "I see…well, this has been enlightening Mr. Quentin, but as I said, I really must be getting back to work now. The passengers must have their tea and crumpets you know," she added.

Q frowned and stroked his well-groomed facial hair. "Enough with the games, _El-Aurian_."

Guinan froze. "You're not one of these E-arth people then," she said.

Q rolled his eyes again. "It is pronounced _Earth_ …and as if it weren't obvious…no of course I'm not one of these _Earth people_ ," he said, dropping down lazily onto a plush couch and stretched out his long legs. He gestured for her to sit down across from him. "Don't worry by the way…they do get better. Just give them oh…three or four hundred years."

Guinan sat down, now more wary than when she had believed him to be from this planet. "Unfortunately for me, I am a bit short on time," she said. "And I certainly don't have time to wait around for them to evolve."

Q leaned back on his couch. "I know how much time you have El-Aurian—"

"My name is Guinan," she said mildly.

"… _and_ I know how much time your people have…and I know why you're here."

"My people…what are you talking about?"

"Oh…don't be so coy, Guinan," Q chastised her gently. "You're here for the shard aren't you? If you've come to find it, you must fear that something truly awful is going to happen to your people in say…75 more of your years or so."

Guinan rubbed her temples. "You have the power to see the future? Will you tell me what you see then?"

"I have the power to see whatever I _want_ to see, and to do whatever I _want_ to do," said Q. "Which to be honest is not always all it is cracked up to be,"he added.

"But you won't tell me what happens to my people? My grandmother saw into the future too before she died, and I know that there will be some kind of invasion of my world and I want to prevent it…whatever it is. Please tell me."

Q seemed to think about this for a few moments, but then frowned and shook his head. "No. I won't tell you."

Guinan folded her hands in her lap. It was a method she used to calm herself when she was beginning to get angry. "It seems that omnipotence does not equal even a modicum of compassion," she said. "So if you know all and see all, why are you insisting on doing 'business' with me? What is it you want?"

Q glared at her and sat up straight. "I want to know your intent…once you have located the shard, I want to know what you intend to do with it."

Guinan shook her head in confusion. "I thought you just told me you could see anything you wanted. Why can't you see inside my mind? Why can't you look to the future and determine what I will do?"

Q's face darkened. Clearly he did not appreciate her pointing out potential defects in his abilities. "You have powers of your own…such as they are," he said. "Whether you know it or not, you have defenses which even for me are difficult to see through."

Guinan studied him. "If you know of the object I am seeking then you must also know of the Other. Why should I trust you?"

Q stared at her. "Because I want to prevent his return just as much as you do."

* * *

Wesley walked cautiously into the dining area where his mother sat hunched at the table over a cup of coffee. She was wearing her lab coat, and he knew she had recently returned from sick bay. He could tell she was deep in thought and after what had happened earlier that morning, he didn't want to startle her.

"Mom?"

She turned slightly to look at him through reddened eyes. She dabbed at her nose with a tissue. "Oh hi, honey. Come and sit down," she patted the chair next to her.

He sat down slowly. "Are you sure you don't want to be alone?"

Beverly shook her head and sipped her coffee. "No, I'm glad you're here," she said resolutely. "She reached over to take his hand. "No matter what has happened in our lives we've always had each other, Wes. And that means the world to me-especially right now."

"Me too...but Mom are you alright? That was so scary this morning. I'm sorry I froze—I just didn't know what to do to help you."

She sighed and forced a smile. "Wes, you were fine. And I am so sorry that you had to witness that."

Wesley put his elbows on the table. "What exactly...I mean you don't have to tell me everything. But the Captain was..."

"He's going to be alright," she said quickly, but then seemed to re-think her answer. "I mean I _hope_ he is going to be alright. The truth is Wes, after we beamed to sick bay I wasn't unable to do anything to heal him. I feel helpless." She smiled weakly. "I'm not used to feeling that way."

"But you said you think he'll be okay..."

Beverly took deep breath and looked at her son. If she couldn't tell Wesley, who could she tell? So she told him about the artifact and its control over the Captain. She left some of the detail out; Jean-Luc's violent mood swings-her growing fears about being alone with him. There was only so much she was willing to say for fear of frightening her son. After all she was supposed to be his protector, not the other way around. Wesley stared at her silently in shock until she was finished.

"Wow," he said. "So…the artifact is hurting him, but if he separates himself from it, it hurts him even more."

She nodded and then her face grew even more worried if that was possible. "Wesley, I need you to be careful around Captain Picard."

Wesley broke into a nervous smile, which faded slowly as he saw very real concern on his mother's face. "I'm serious, Wesley," she said quietly.

"Mom…its Captain Picard. He wouldn't do anything to hurt me." As nervous as the Captain made Wesley sometimes, he would never expect physical violence from him.

She smiled and took his hand again. "I know he wouldn't Wes. But as I just told you, he is not quite himself right now."

Wesley fell silent and looked down at the table. "What is he going to do to get free from that thing?"

She shook her head. "I don't know," she admitted. "But I'm going to have to find a way to help him. Maybe Deanna…maybe she can help me." Wesley nodded and then they both fell silent again.

"Mom?"

"Hmm?" She looked at him tiredly.

"You love him, don't you?"

She wasn't prepared for how that question coming from her son would affect her. She wiped a tear from her eye. "Yes," she said glancing at him, her voice just above a whisper.

"Then you can't give up on him, Mom. He's _still_ Captain Picard," Wesley said firmly, as if he knew that would never change.

Despite her gloomy mood she laughed and then leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. "Thanks. You're a great kid…young man, I mean," she corrected herself. He shrugged and his cheeks flushed red.

She ran a hand through his hair. "Wes…are you okay with—with the Captain and me being in a relationship?"

Wesley's blush deepened. He shrugged. "Sure," he said. "I mean…ever since we first came aboard the Enterprise a few years ago and we saw him again, I've wondered I guess…."

Beverly sighed. "Yes. But I know I should have said something to you recently and well…things just happened so quickly—"

Wesley put up his hands. He didn't need any more details. This was his mom of course. "Mom, it's okay. I'm sixteen. I figured it out…." And being sixteen he didn't want too many details about his mother's love life either.

She looked at him and laughed. "Alright. Fair enough."

* * *

Captain Picard straightened out his uniform and quickened his steps once inside the shuttle bay. He felt strong and healthy as he ducked into the shuttle craft. Data and Worf were already there waiting, as were two security officers. What were their names? Oh yes…Barnes and Choi. They looked as bright and prepared as he would expect for such an assignment. He planned on bringing Counselor Troi down to Kronos with them tomorrow. Knowing the Klingons might be suspicious of someone they viewed as attempting to read their minds, he thought he would wait to introduce her.

He resisted asking where Riker was. It was still early. He settled down in the co-pilot seat. Data sat nearby checking his tricorder and nodded at Picard in his usual perfunctory, yet pleasant manner. Picard could not help but glance down at Data's left wrist. It looked fine—all repaired. And yet a very real feeling of guilt crept into his heart. He wouldn't feel that, would he, unless he had actually done something to harm Data?

He put such thoughts out of his mind and his ears perked up as he heard voices outside the shuttle. Commander Riker's head appeared just inside the doorway and he smiled at the Captain. Riker's expression was one of tolerance and sympathy, with some amusement thrown in.

"And then she tells me, 'Geordi I just want to be friends….'" LaForge was grumbling as he climbed into the shuttle craft behind Commander Riker.

"Mr. LaForge, if you wouldn't mind waiting until later to regal us with stories of your romantic adventures, I would like to get underway," Picard said, powering up the thrusters on the shuttle.

"Yes sir," said LaForge, dropping into the pilot's seat next to the Captain.

Riker sat down. "Take us out then, LaForge."

* * *

 _The sun caressed her face in the way that could only happen in late spring before the unrelenting power of the sun's rays became oppressive. She lay down on the blanket and put her forearm over her face, beginning to doze. Where had he gone? He said he was just going to go for a quick walk down to the stream. She thought back to what they had been doing just minutes ago and despite the warm air, suddenly had goose bumps. She never wanted to be apart from him again. Not now that they had come so far together. Feeling content and drowsy she began to fall asleep again when she felt a light tickle on her face. She scrunched up her nose and then blew with her lips when the tickle increased. She opened one eye and discovered Jean-Luc had returned and was kneeling over her rubbing some kind of wispy grass against her cheek just to irritate her. A rumble began in his chest and he began to laugh as though getting on her nerves was the only thing he lived for. She grabbed his wrist and pulled him down. "Why you sneaky son of a bitch…" she shouted breaking into laughter as he tumbled over her, now laughing uncontrollably. She grabbed his side where she had recently learned he was ticklish, and he cried out._

 _"_ _Sneaky son of a bitch? Who are you insulting, my dear old mother or me?" he questioned, holding her wrists tightly, but still laughing._

 _"_ _Both of you," she laughed, breaking away from him and rolling away. He stuck the weed in her ear, but then gave up when she threw an elbow backward into his chest. "Okay you win," he said and rolled over on to his back squinting up into the blue sky. She rolled over and grabbed his hand and they lay quietly side by side in the warm sun._

 _Gradually the sky grew overcast and the sun disappeared. Darkness seemed to be closing in on the once sun drenched hillside. Beverly sat up in sudden alarm. The sun hadn't disappeared behind a cloud—it was gone._

 _"_ _Jean-Luc, look!" She glanced back to him but he wasn't there. She looked around searchingly. Her eyes found him standing one hundred feet away. A black rectangular mirror stood in front of him. She called his name again and he turned to look at her. His body was covered in tattoos and scars and he held a strange curved blade over his shoulder. She began to run but she was too slow and her feet seemed to sink beneath her. Not seeming to recognize her he turned back around and stepped into the mirror…._

Beverly shouted, and jerked up from sleeping on her desk. A data pad and a stylus clattered to the floor. She almost fell backwards, still reeling from the dream. It had seemed so real. She heard quick footsteps behind her. "Beverly, it's alright," Troi said, coming up behind her. Deanna stooped down and picked up the data pad. "It was just a dream," she reassured her friend placing a comforting hand on Beverly's shoulder.

"Was it?" Beverly and Deanna both turned to see Guinan standing in the doorway of the Crusher's office. She walked in slowly. "It's very important that you tell me just what it was that you saw, Doctor. Because if you saw what I _think_ you saw, we are fast running out of time."


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

A wind blew across the immense landing pad as the Enterprise shuttle craft touched down on Kronos. One sleek looking green-tinted non-Federation shuttle had already landed and its crew was standing outside it, apparently waiting patiently. The leader was a tall stately figure. Picard knew that figure; hooded as he was in a brown cloak; a Romulan cloak.

Tomalak threw off his hood gracefully as Picard and his party approached from their shuttle. The other four officers followed suit and looked upon the Starfleet personnel with the requisite amount of suspicion and derision. Commander Tomalak's expression was one of delight however. "Captain Picard," he announced, "How strange that we should meet the Federation in peace during such dangerous times."

Picard and his officers halted before the Romulans. "Strange? Surely the motives of your own government are not unclear to you, Commander Tomalak."

"Yes, yes...it was my government who called this conference," Tomalak admitted, still smiling. "And you shall hear no criticism of that decision from us," he said pointedly, glancing back at his officers. "For the Senate is always watching."

Picard waved his officers forward for introductions.  
"Commander Tomalak, may I present my First Officer Commander Riker, Second Officer Lt. Commander Data, Chief Engineer LaForge, Chief of security Lt. Worf and his officers Choi and Barnes." Tomalak nodded at each of the officers except for Worf whom he hardly acknowledged.

Commander Tomalak nodded at his officers. "With me are Sub-Commander Saris, and three Centurions whose names…are not important." His contemptuous smile never wavered. "And now that we have the formalities out of the way we can resume our barely veiled hostilities, Captain," said Tomalak. "After all, as you humans say there is too much water under the bridge between our cultures for us to forgive one another's transgressions."

Riker's eyebrows shot up. "Actually Commander the saying is meant to refer to old concerns that should be left behind...like water is left under a bridge."

Tomalak shrugged. "I see. Now that I know the true meaning of the phrase, I no longer believe it to be relevant."

Picard smiled slightly. "But it is relevant…perhaps in these _dangerous_ times we should consider abandoning old grudges," he offered.

Tomalak smiled pretentiously. "No doubt this is a Human sentiment," he said. "And one that a Romulan is not likely to share." He sighed. "How disappointing to find that the actual man does not match up to the legend," he remarked. "I am sure I speak for my crew when I say we never expected the great Captain Picard to be so...sentimental."

"And I have never _claimed_ to be a legend," Picard shot back testily.

Tomalak's slow smile widened. "So modest…as few legends are," said Tomalak deliberately.

Picard clamped his mouth shut tightly. He could feel that his patience was already faltering, which for him was unusual-and in this setting was not a good sign. He needed to remain focused and centered if they were to make progress during these negotiations.

He glanced around, and to his relief found a group of Klingons approaching to greet them. At the head of the large group was a very stout Klingon, whom Picard recognized as Chancellor K'mpec.

"Nuq'neh?" barked K'mpec. {"What do you want?"}

"Jih ghaj ghoS jatlh," said Picard in greeting, stepping forward. {"I have come to speak."}

The Chancellor laughed heartily. "Then you shall be heard, Captain. May your enemies run screaming in fear." He turned a suspicious eye to the Romulans. "How convenient that our enemies would be so close among us…."

Tomalak was unable or unwilling to hide his disgust for the portly Klingon. "I consider the label of enemy to be a compliment when uttered by a Klingon. But I have not run since I was a youth, and I certainly do not scream."

"Ha ha ha, there is still time yet," laughed K'mpec.

* * *

 **Somewhere on a train in 1881 America**

"You appear to understand the basic principles of multi-dimensional travel, so I will try and explain this in terms that you will comprehend. As you know, the space-time continuum is vast. My race, known as the Q exist along most of these dimensions. There are few other species that exist similarly, but there is one singular creature we have watched with interest and suspicion for millions of your years."

"And this creature is not a Q?"

Q made a face. "No it is not. This creature, known by many names across the dimensions is what your people call Orla."

Guinan sat forward intently.

"I see the name strikes a chord with you," Q said. "While the Q are many, Orla is just one being. And while the entire scope of its power is unknown, it is believed that Orla has powers similar to the Q."

"She," corrected Guinan. "Orla is a female."

Q threw up his hands. "Oh how disappointing, this humanoid fixation on sex! Who cares what gender Orla is?"

Guinan shrugged easily. "That was how Orla presented herself to us."

"How do you know? Were you there?" Q demanded.

Guinan shook her head 'no'. "Orla first appeared on El Auria in the ancient days, long before I was born."

"Good. I am glad that we have settled that everything you know about Orla was written in religious texts and passed along by word of mouth by people, who like yourself never actually met her-I mean _it_. Orla is no more female or male than this blob," Q said dramatically and snapped his fingers. A small purple cloud now floated between them. Guinan jumped slightly in her seat. Q flicked the cloud and it disappeared. "Actually," said Q admiring his work, "that was a fairly decent approximation of Orla's true shape: a blob."

Guinan folded her arms over her chest. "Alright...so let's agree that you know more than me. Now what exactly _do_ you know?"

"I know that this creature, Orla is very much in love with the thought of creation, to the extent that it tried its hand-well it doesn't exactly have hands- at the act of creation more than once. We Q have no interest in creating new species. Why do so when it is so much more entertaining to observe and sometimes meddle with them? And by no means do we allow ourselves to destroy another species. Believe me, this is also tempting, but we prefer to take a more hands off approach."

"But Orla does not?"

"We Q observed for many years that Orla would create a being and within the blink of one of your eyes would extinguish it if it was not to Orla's liking, or did not meet the standard of perfection it had set for itself. Thus all through the multitudes of time and space and through many universes Orla planted its seeds on various planets. Of the species Orla allowed to live, some of these were left alone to progress on their own. Others were directly influenced by Orla, and it made no secret of its presence to the extent that some of its creations took notice of it and created religions around it."

"Are you telling me that Orla created the El Aurians? But the teachings only say she came to protect us," said Guinan sounding doubtful.

"Perhaps Orla did not want you to know. Perhaps it believed that your race would be better for not knowing," said Q.

"If I am better off not knowing, why are you telling me all of this?"

"Because Orla's carelessness has alarmed some of its peers. It has unleashed a plague upon the universe, and eventually that plague may reach even the Q."

"I'm listening..."

"Orla was so pleased by the good hearted people it created on El Auria that it decided to repeat its creation on another planet in another dimension. And it loved the El Aurians so much-because if there is another failing of Orla it is that it has a limitless capacity for love-"

"The ability to love is not a failing," said Guinan. "Love is a great thing."

Q ignored her. "Orla loved the El Aurians so much that it created the species again," Q continued. "Except this time Orla _inexplicably_ decided to provide this being with greater powers, and with immortality perhaps as a gift to the wonderfully gentle and open-minded race it believed it had created once more. But it was not to be."

"As with most of its experiments, Orla created just one of these beings to begin with. But in this universe only dark matter existed, and so the being was created from dark matter. In effect Orla had created the exact opposite of an El Aurian. Orla immediately realized its mistake when the new being exhibited some concerning attributes-in particular a purely sadistic personality."

"The Other," said Guinan.

"Yes," said Q. "The ultimate problem child. So Orla attempted to destroy its new creation but the being only grew more powerful. And being the disturbed individual it was it didn't appreciate the fact that Orla had tried to destroy it. It took offense, I think you could say, to Orla's attempt to murder it."

"Realizing it had been created in the image of the perfect El Aurians who could do no wrong in Orla's proverbial eyes, and that it would never meet these high standards, the so called Other traveled to El Auria to wreak havoc. And the rest of the story-or at least most of it- you are aware of."

"But... Orla left us for years to suffer under the reign of the Other. Why...?"

Q shook his head. "Ask Orla...that is if you still intend to bring the shards to her."

Guinan stood up. "So you do know my intent after all!"

Q shrugged casually. "I just read your mind while we were talking."

"Then you should know that yes, I do intend to bring her the shards-once I have found the last one."

"I have an alternative proposal for you," offered Q. "Bring the shards to me. Your Orla is obviously so careless and untrustworthy that it's not worth your time to bring them to her."

"Not worth my time? Mr. Quentin..."

"Call me Q..."

"Q… It had better be worth my time. I just spent the last forty years traveling the universe gathering the first two pieces, and I am very close to finding the third. Once I have it I will bring them all to Orla-as my grandmother told me. "

Q smiled craftily. "And once that is done you are confident that the piece of the Other which still lies on your home planet will be no bother to you at all."

"Should I not be confident? If you have some information for me Q I will gladly accept it."

"You really expect me to tell you everything, don't you? Well I don't have any intention of doing so. It is simple. If you are really as intelligent as you seem to be, you will bring the shards to me." Q's voice suddenly took on an edge.

Guinan walked away toward the door. She was surprised no one had come and demanded to know why she had not returned to work. She turned back around to look at him. "Why can't you just find them yourself? You're omnipotent…aren't you?"

Q suddenly appeared standing right next to her. The room darkened. A halo of light seemed to shimmer around his body. "Are you challenging me, El-Aurian? Because this will be a _very_ one-sided battle."

Guinan shifted slightly, standing her ground. She knew he was right, but why so defensive? "You didn't answer my question, Q. Why can't you find the pieces yourself?"

Q still appeared angry, but the light in the room returned. "It's complicated…too complicated to explain to you," he said.

Guinan turned and opened the door to the hallway glancing out. An agitated conductor stood frozen in time, as did several passengers who had been walking through the train. It seemed Q really had not wanted to be interrupted. She smiled and looked back at him.

Q did not appear amused. "Guinan I will give you three more days. By then we will be much nearer to your destination on this hideously slow-moving vehicle. Three more days to decide whether to accept my offer to take the shards. Trust me; they will be much safer with me than with Orla."

Guinan straightened her uniform and ducked out past the frozen conductor. "I'll seriously consider it," she said calling back over her shoulder before disappearing down the passageway.

* * *

Deanna's mouth hung open in unapologetic astonishment. "Did you…did you give the three pieces to Q?"

"That's assuming Guinan found the third piece at all," said Crusher, folding her arms over her chest and looking just as shocked as Troi. "Did you?"

Guinan smiled distractedly. "Yes, eventually I did find the third piece. And no I did not give them to Q. But that story is for another day. My concern now is that if I collected the third piece, why is this all happening now?"

"Can you even be certain that this…thing that has taken hold of the Captain is the Other?" Crusher asked. The very thought of it made her shudder.

Guinan shook her head. "No…not without more information. That is why I wanted to find out what occurred in your dream, Doctor…."

Crusher sat back down on the edge of her desk. "I uh…well some of it is personal, you see…well Jean-Luc and I were together in the dream—you know, um…."

"I know," Guinan and Troi said at the same time.

"We understand, Beverly," Troi said more gently.

Beverly looked somewhat taken aback. "The sun was so warm and comforting and in the dream I began to doze off. And then Jean-Luc left to go for a walk. When he came back we were joking around, being silly…and then the sun just disappeared from the sky—as though it had never existed. Everything seemed grey. I tried to tell Jean-Luc, but when I turned back for him he was gone. When I looked up again that's when I saw him."

"What was he doing?" Troi asked.

"He was transformed. He looked like some kind of warrior and was holding a weapon. He looked at me but it was as though…he didn't recognize me." She twisted her hands together and felt herself getting emotional. She cursed herself silently for being upset over a dream.

"It wasn't just a dream, Beverly," Troi said comfortingly.

"Anything else?" Guinan asked.

"Yes. He was standing next to something that resembled an upright mirror, with something like black water inside it. Then he stepped into the mirror."

* * *

Guinan placed her face into her hands briefly and then looked up. She was taken back for a moment to that mysterious pool of water up on the hill in her youth. The one she would have no doubt returned to if her grandmother had not intervened. But that piece had disappeared from El-Auria just a few years after the Borg attack in 2265—years after she had already dispatched the other three. No one had understood why it had disappeared, but the circumstances surrounding its disappearance and what she believed had involved one of her favorite students had always haunted her.

Now she wondered if all of her fears so many years ago had been justified. Something had happened to cause that piece of the Other to live on. And then when Captain Picard found his artifact on Risa, the Other must have taken notice. "The old texts must have been wrong," she muttered. "There were five pieces, not four. Captain Picard has the fifth piece."

"How do we stop this, Guinan?" Beverly's voice was quiet, mainly because she was so tired.

"Captain Picard's entry into the mirror is significant. But I don't know fully why. But I do know that to enter the mirror is to enter the Other's world. In his world there can only be violence and pain, because those are the things that keep him alive. He lives to see and cause the pain of beings less powerful than he is. That is why I am not surprised to hear you say that he has reported fighting in battles and has experienced wounds that won't heal."

"But how do we keep Captain Picard from falling more and more under his control-" Troi stopped in mid-sentence and turned around before Beverly even heard the familiar footsteps. No doubt Troi sensed his approach.

* * *

Captain Picard paused in the doorway of Beverly's office and leaned against the door frame. A strange expression was on his face. "Did I hear my name being mentioned? You know…three is the typical number of participants needed for the most successful conspiracies." He smiled, and the odd expression grew colder. "Of course, there is no reason for me to expect I am being plotted against. Not on my own ship of course."

Beverly stepped forward anxiously. "We didn't expect you back so soon. How is the conference going?"

The shadow over his face lifted and his features relaxed somewhat. "Oh," he said straightening in the doorway. "We just dispensed with some of the preliminaries today," he said. "Chancellor K'mpec has invited us all to a banquet tomorrow, which if it is anything like today promises to be…quite interesting." He smiled and then yawned, looking suddenly exhausted. "I think I might turn in early," he said.

"Wait," Beverly said, suddenly frightened to let him fall asleep. "Let's go to Ten Forward and have something to eat," she suggested trying to sound upbeat.

Guinan stood up. "I think I have just the thing for you both," she said. "Something special. You're going to need it to offset the Klingon food you'll be eating tomorrow."

Troi walked out behind them. "I think I will come along too. Goddess, I could use some chocolate right now…."

* * *

 **Six hours later…**

Beverly sat up in bed. For a moment she was disoriented, and then remembered she was in Jean-Luc's quarters. She checked the clock. It was midnight. She hadn't felt him get up, and so she had no idea how long he had been gone. She heard a strange humming coming from somewhere outside of the bedroom. Getting up and pulling on a robe she walked hesitantly into the living room. He wasn't there. She saw a light coming from the bathroom and gathering her courage walked toward the room as the humming increased.

She came cautiously around the corner and saw him. He stood over the sink with his hands gripping either side of the sink, staring wide eyed into the mirror. The humming sound was coming from his mouth and black tendrils of some kind of smoky substance was being emitted from the small black stone on the edge of the sink and pouring into his nose and mouth. His eyes appeared an inky black, with no trace of hazel to be seen. His muscles flexed and he jerked as though he was jumping or running, or trying to at least. Beverly's mouth opened in reflexive horror. She didn't know if she was even making a sound, but she shouted with all she had.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

"Worf!" Troi shouted running toward him as he stepped out of the turbo lift. "Worf!"

Worf stopped short. "Yes Counselor?" It seemed somewhat late at night to be counseling the crew. And yet Deanna Troi seemed not only wide awake, but distraught as well. If she had insomnia, he could relate. Worf himself had been up exercising on the holodeck, unable to sleep after having been around so many treacherous Romulans earlier in the day. "Can I be of some assistance?"

"Yes!" She said grabbing his hand and pulling him back into the turbo lift. "We've got to get to the Captain. Something is wrong," she said breathlessly. "Deck Nine, Captain's quarters," she said to the lift.

Worf turned to glare down at Troi. "I am not…accustomed to interrupting the Captain in his private quarters, Counselor. What exactly do you need me for?"

"Security," said Troi looking up at him. "Trust me, Lieutenant, I wouldn't have asked for your assistance if I didn't think you could be of help."

Worf fixed his gaze on the turbo lift wall. There was a rumor that Doctor Crusher and Captain Picard were now involved. It was not surprising to Worf, but he did not want to embarrass the Captain by entering his quarters unannounced based simply on what Counselor Troi was…feeling. Would Doctor Crusher be there? "I am not armed," Worf suddenly blurted out. He looked down to find that Troi had been staring at him with a curious expression.

"Mr. Worf…I do not expect that you will have to _shoot_ anyone," she said.

Worf straightened. "Good," he said, feeling somewhat relieved.

* * *

He heard the screams of a woman nearby and halted his charge toward the fortress. The shouting became louder. The sound of her voice was so familiar. The woman needed help. He couldn't see her anywhere, but the shouts continued. Should he stop to find her? He was hesitant to abandon his charge, knowing that his master desired him to complete the mission.

The voice of his master boomed down at him from the sky. "The Old King has stolen the person most dear to you...you must kill him if you want her to live. She is screaming for you to help her. You must kill the Old King and take his place," the voice commanded.

Beverly! The King had captured Beverly—that was what his master had said. Now desperate, he began to run again, began to climb the steps to the fortress, but then slowed his pace when he heard the shouts again. They were coming from right next to him not in the direction of the fortress. He couldn't see her, and tears stung in his eyes. Beverly?

* * *

Jean-Luc was murmuring something over and over in a language she could not understand. For the last few minutes, she had yelled his name too many times to count, but he was still unresponsive; locked in to whatever the artifact was making him do. Eventually, an idea came to her and she quickly left the bathroom, returning with her tricorder. With a shaking hand she put it down on the sink and then stepped back again. If she couldn't separate him from the tiny rock, then at least her tricorder would record what the Other was doing to Jean-Luc, and she could find a way to stop it.

She stopped shouting to him and shrank back against the wall, afraid to go near him for fear of what might happen to him if she tried to break the link he had with that sinister object. The fact was she didn't know what would happen. So she stood flattened against the wall watching him, when she heard the door to his quarters open and quick footsteps coming closer.

Within moments Troi and Worf stood at the door of the bathroom taking in the scene. Beverly glanced at them, and her mouth opened and closed, unsure of what to do. Picard suddenly dropped to the floor in a crouching position and began moving his arms around searchingly as though looking for something. The smoky material stopped flowing from the object into his nose and mouth, but his eyes were still a cloudy black. "Beverly," he called out hoarsely. "Beverly, I'm coming, where are you? Beverly?"

He must have heard her shouting to him earlier. But he was still in the thrall of whatever was controlling him. He couldn't see her. Beverly looked quickly at Troi as if questioning whether she should say something, anything to him. Troi nodded to her slowly, clearly unsure of her recommendation. "Yes, Jean-Luc," Beverly said trying to keep her voice steady. "It's me…I'm right here." His brow furrowed in confusion as he crawled on all fours toward the sound of her voice. A jagged bloody line zigzagged down the side of his face from his forehead to his chin. A new wound no doubt that would not heal.

"I'm coming," he whispered. "But it's dark in here, and I can't see you. Just stay still so that he can't find you," he begged her.

"Who is 'he', Jean-Luc? Who is trying to find me?"

"My master told me…." He continued to crawl toward her as though blind. Worf took a hesitant step forward. He had not expected this strange set of circumstances, and had no idea if Doctor Crusher was in danger. If the Captain was under the power of the peculiar object resting on the bathroom sink, Worf decided he should put himself between the Captain and Doctor Crusher—just in case.

This was a mistake, for as soon as he took another protective step, Picard rose to his feet, eyes an inky black. There was no recognition in his eyes, only fierce determination as he sprung on Worf. He swung at Worf two fisted as though he was wielding a sword, crying out as he did so. Worf was not prepared for the strength of the blow, which he tried to block with his forearm. It felt as though he had been struck by a blade. He heard the bones of his wrist crack, and he grunted, trying to grab the Captain to restrain him. Picard ducked out of his grasp and then turned to face him again.

 _"_ _Enemy…"_ the voice drifted. _"He must be killed to reach the King. Kill him,"_ the voice commanded.

"M-master?" Picard stammered, hesitating. The blade shimmered before him still clutched in his hands, but it no longer appeared completely solid to him. All around him, the outer walls of the fortress seemed to waver, and he thought he could see through them. The foe standing before him did not appear to be one of the countless Borg he had killed. Instead this one appeared more familiar…a golden-black uniform. A Klingon. Was he the enemy, or was he a friend?

 _"Where is your beloved?"_ the voice of his master hissed at him. The Klingon walked closer to him, wounded, but still a threat. The Klingon reached out a hand toward him, and he seized it, turning his feet and sending the Klingon over his shoulder. He heard the smash of glass, felt a rush of air. He couldn't see clearly. He turned and blinked and saw two female figures. Beverly? He felt dizzy and confused, as though straddling two different worlds. Then a pair of strong arms squeezed around him, he struggled and then heard a hiss and felt pressure on his neck.

* * *

"Is he coming out of it?" Riker asked. "Is it safe?"

"Look at his eyes," said Troi. "They're returning to normal, Beverly."

Beverly still in shock stared down at Jean-Luc, lying prone on the deck of his cabin. He hands and feet were held in blue-green energy restraints and he stared silently up at the ceiling.

Guinan knelt on the floor next to Picard and looked up at Beverly. "He's in some sort of trance," she said. "But I can tell his mind is clearing…don't you agree, Counselor?"

Troi nodded. "Yes, I believe so."

Riker nodded. "Fine, but we're keeping the restraints on him," he said, glancing over at Worf who sat on Captain Picard's living room couch looking completely depressed as though he had failed. Worf had been able to restrain Picard, but not after having sustained a broken wrist, nose, and cuts after having been tossed into the Captain's shower by Picard himself.

Picard suddenly sat up and they all took an involuntarily step backward. Picard looked down at his bound hands and glared up at Riker, blinking in confusion. Why was he being restrained? He trusted his First Officer. There must be a good reason for this. "What is happening? Did I do something?"

"Yes, Captain," said Guinan. "You are being controlled by an entity that is using that rock sitting on your bathroom sink to create an alternate world in which you apparently travel to at night. This explains why you have been so tired, my friend. You've been awake every night for hours, fighting—for what purpose we don't know."

"Beverly," he said, jerking his head back to look behind him, where she stood watching him quietly. "I heard her screaming. I thought she was in danger…." Beverly tried to walk over to his side at that moment, but Guinan held up a warning hand.

"Captain, Doctor Crusher is safe. But you are not. Now this is very serious business. Please try and remember." She held up the tricorder and tapped at it. It emitted the sound of his voice, repeating some guttural phrase over and over.

His head swiveled around to stare at the instrument. "Is that me?"

"Yes, sir," said Troi. "Do you not remember?"

Picard gritted his teeth and shook his head in frustration. "Remember? I can't even understand what the hell I am _saying_."

Guinan stood up calmly. "I can. It's the language of the ancient El-Aurians you are speaking Captain."

"What—what am I saying then?"

"You are saying 'kill the Old King'"; she said and knelt down again. He looked at her with a dubious and pained expression. A thin trickle of blood streamed down his face, seeping from the jagged cut, which instead of coagulating seemed more pronounced now. "What I don't understand, Captain is _why_ you are saying it. Who is the Old King? Who does the Other want you to kill?"

Picard pressed his lips together and shook his head again. "I don't know who the King is," he said. He looked over at Worf, who looked wounded and mortified. Is that what he had done?

He looked down at his bound wrists. "I need to talk to Commander Riker alone," he said with quiet force. "I must ask the rest of you to leave." As they shuffled out, Beverly stooped down and put her hand briefly on his shoulder before exiting with the others.

* * *

Riker knelt down and deactivated the leg restraints, moving back then as the Captain got to his feet. "Will…you have to take command, this is getting completely out of hand."

Riker shook his head. "The decision has already been made for both of us, Captain." He took a deep breath, feeling as though he had betrayed the Captain. "I already reported this incident to Admiral Nechayev about 30 minutes ago, sir. She is aware of your…difficulties. But she informed me that unless you become 'incoherent' and lack the 'cognitive ability' to proceed at the conference, she wants you to remain in command and to continue as the leading representative at the conference on Kronos. The stakes are much too high, sir…according to the Admiral."

"Dammit Riker then the stakes are too high for me to fail, aren't they?"

Riker reached out and deactivated the wrist restraints. "Sir, we're not going to fail. And you have my full support."

* * *

 **Earth, 1881**

"Well, Gloria, this is where I switch up trains," said Cousin Rob, giving her a hug. He smoothed out his blue porter uniform, and straightened his cap. "I got another assignment waiting for me here in Chicago, and then back down south again. You got a few days more before you reach Sioux Falls. Once you get there, I don't know what your plans are, but there ain't an established train system all the way into the Black Hills yet. Why they just begun building that railroad in those parts."

Guinan smiled and nodded. "That's fine Rob, I will figure it out. You've been a great help to me, Rob. I cannot thank you enough."

He shrugged as he was walking away. "Jus' be careful, Gloria," he called back. "I hear it is something wild up in those parts."

As Guinan ducked back in to the train and it pulled away from the station, she turned and headed back to her duties.

It wasn't until the day after next that she saw Q again. It had been five days, not three since he had given her that ultimatum, demanding that she find the third piece and give it to him. For some reason, she had been able to avoid him. Now as the train steamed through a place referred to by the conductor as Iowa, she knew they were nearing the next significant stop for her, just over the Dakota border. Yet somehow she had a feeling she was not yet close to the end of her journey.

* * *

She walked through the train carrying a large box of cigars, she had been ordered to sell to the passengers. The number of service staff had been cut just before departing Chicago, and she was now multi-tasking as required by the head conductor. She turned at the sound of Q's voice, because he was sitting in a seat which when she had passed an instant ago had been empty. "I would like one of those fine cigars," said Q with what she had come to know as his normal air of superiority.

She halted and walked back to see him. "Yes sir, let me tell you of the fine variety we—"she cut herself off abruptly, because as she was speaking a cigar appeared between his lips, already lit for his convenience. He puffed lazily on the cigar as he watched her carefully. "Have you made your decision?" he asked slowly. "Now you had better consider all of the consequences, before answering my dear."

Guinan glanced around her. Unlike their prior discussed, Q had not stopped time, and porters hurried about, passengers talked amongst themselves and conductors patrolled the passageways.

Deep inside she knew she was in trouble, but still, she was not deterred. She had to bring the pieces of the Other to Orla, and there was something about Q that she simply did not trust. Was this all a game to him? Because for her it meant securing a future for her people and doing away with a long-lived evil. Besides, she now had many questions to ask Orla. "Yes, I have made my decision," she said. "And I must bring the shards to Orla."

Q did not look surprised, but then he had likely known her answer already. He also did not look pleased. His face reddened and he took the cigar from his mouth and slowly twisted it out on the mahogany table. "Very well. I have a feeling we will meet sometime in the future. Perhaps then you will have had time to reconsider your foolishness." He smiled up at her before shouting at the top of his lungs, "Thief!"

Guinan turned as a conductor blew a whistle and began to run toward her at full speed. She threw the box of cigars directly at the man's head and then bolted in the opposite direction.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

"Stop the train! Stop the train!" she heard the conductor yelling. Guinan raced forward through the train, slowing only briefly to grab her satchel which held her traveling clothes. Resuming her escape she ran until she reached the locomotive car. She found a ladder and flew up it as fast as she could, and then opened the hatch. Wind and the smell of burning coal blew into her face, as she pulled herself up and out into the sunlight. The sound of the engine was now all she could hear, but she slammed the hatch shut, knowing that she was still being pursued. She realized immediately that standing up was a bad idea, as she was nearly blown off the vehicle. There were metal grips alternately along the black body of the locomotive and she crawled along as quickly as she could.

Finally she ran out of locomotive to crawl along, and heard shouts behind her. Looking over her shoulder one of the junior conductors was holding an object into the air, resembling a disruptor. She almost lost her balance as he fired it into the air with a deafening blast. There were three men behind her now, and she stood to her feet. Seeing the first passenger car behind her, she took three big steps backward, and then ran and leapt in the air. She landed with a thud, and then ran forward not looking back again. The train had already begun to slow down, and she knew she would have to find a way to hide. She was armed still with the small disruptor inside her boot, but she could not kill everyone to escape. She was not here to promote violence, and from what she had observed so far there was already enough of it on this planet.

As the train began to slow, she had an idea. She glanced back at the men clumsily pursuing her. At the end of the third passenger car she stopped and turned to make sure they were looking her way. They shouted at her to stop, and she wobbled, pretending to lose her balance and slipped off the end of the passenger car. It was a risky business, as there was little room and many pieces of protruding mechanical pieces between this car and the next one over. She caught herself on a ledge, and gripped it tightly. "She's fallen!" one of the men was screaming. "The train's stopping, let's wait and then find the body." She closed her eyes momentarily and then, as she rarely ever did, asked Orla for help.

Opening her eyes again she looked down beneath her and could see the ground beneath her still moving so swiftly that it was sickening. She knew the men would be coming, so she quickly but carefully climbed downward until she reach the immense coupler that connected the two cars. Asking Orla for help again she gripped the coupler and then swung her entire body underneath it. She knew that only a few feet now separated her exposed back from the tracks beneath her. She heard shouts from above, and then the shouts became weaker—they were moving away. They hadn't seen her. Her arms ached, but she held onto the coupler with all of her might until the train eventually stopped after a few minutes.

Letting go of the metal fixture, she dropped to the ground, and crouched down. She heard more shouts, but this time from ground, and she knew they were still looking for her. "Mr. Quentin said she stole his prize ruby," said one of the voices. "If she ain't dead yet from the fall, she will be soon enough."

Guinan crouched down as low as possible and looked underneath the train. Her hands were slippery with grease, but she was able to grab a bar underneath the train car, and pulled herself up, wrapping her arms and legs around whatever she could. Water dripped into her eye but she held herself very still as the voices passed. "She must have fallen from this car at least a mile back," she heard the conductor say gruffly. "She's dead… that much is sure. But Mr. Quentin needs his belongings, which she stole from him. Problem is we are on a tight schedule you see. Send a message to the authorities and let's be on our way."

The voices faded again, and she waited until she heard the whistle blow and the now familiar huffing of the engine firing up before she dropped down and darted away from the train, keeping low to the ground. She leapt over a grassy bank just away from the tracks and took cover as the train began to pull away. Eventually she stuck her head up and watched it disappear into the distance.

She climbed back up the hill and then turned and looked all around her. Tall grasses covered rolling hills as far as she could see. The sun was dropping lower in the sky, and she knew her best bet would be to follow the train tracks all the way into Sioux Falls. But she had no idea how long it would take. Without the train, she had no idea how long it would take her to reach the Black Hills where she knew the third piece of the Other would be waiting for her. The star map was no help to her now. She could only hope that she could find some better form of transport, or her chances were slim. So far she had been able to rely on the generosity of others only to a point. Most of these Earth people, she had learned did not have her best interests in mind.

As she walked on through the late afternoon, the wind became cooler. As the sun disappeared the stars appeared and the orbiting moon Luna was so bright that she could still see her way forward. In awe of the beauty, and very tired and thirsty, she sat down cross-legged and stared upward at the stars, wishing, not for the first time that she was back home on El-Auria. It had been years since she had lived anywhere stable for long. As she became still she suddenly came to feel very unsettled. The air did not seem as fresh here as it had.

Standing up again she could see all around her the shapes of large objects. Some were dark, but many had bright white edges, emphasized by the glowing moon above. Turning, she could see the eerie shapes all around her. Not prone to fear, she walked toward one of the shapes until she was standing over it. The smell was now overpowering, and she covered her mouth and nose before peering closer. She realized now that she had observed these shapes from the train at a glance, not knowing what she had been seeing. Now she realized that she was now walking through an immense graveyard of dead four legged creatures. Some had a strange brown fur, but many had been stripped of this covering and lay rotting grotesquely in the moonlight, some were now just skeletons having been stripped of their flesh by smaller creatures. All around her the bodies lay and she wondered what could have caused this. Disease? Famine? Or had the humans whom she now walked among done such a senseless thing on purpose with their antiquated disruptors? Deciding she had seen enough, she continued walking on into the night.

* * *

"Are you sure you're going to be alright?" she touched his face where the gash from last night had faded to a light scar. They stood in the transporter room. Beverly had insisted on seeing him off that morning. She would join him and the rest of the command officers down on Kronos that evening. But for the majority of the day he would be in negotiations with Tomalak and Chancellor K'mpec. After the previous night's events she felt very unsettled and did not know what to think. She hated the fact that he was tied to an object that was causing chaos in his mind, which in turn was causing physical and psychic pain for himself and those around him. And she hated that so far there was nothing she could do to help him.

He averted his eyes. "Yes, I will be fine," he murmured dully. He was exhausted, but more than that he was terrified inwardly of how he might react in any given situation. He wasn't even sure what set it off; what caused the sudden changes in him. He knew he could not leave the damn rock behind on the Enterprise or he would bleed to death. It was like a parasite that refused to leave him. For the most part he still felt himself, but when he heard the whisper, something else took over in his mind and apparently also his body.

How was he to trust himself among the Romulans and Klingons, when he was expected to be sharp witted? He could not believe that he had injured Worf, who had only been trying to protect Beverly. Yes, Worf had been protecting her from him. It was unfathomable to him that he was a threat to the people he most cared about, and what was he supposed to do, give in to it? He had to resist, he knew that was the only way.

Beverly kissed him lightly on the cheek and then looked at him again. "Tell me what you're thinking," she said quietly.

He looked at her. "It doesn't matter," he said.

"How can you say such a thing, of course it matters! If we're to fight this thing and win-"

"No!" he objected backing up. "I have to handle this, Beverly. I am not sure it is even safe for anyone…but _especially_ you to be around me anymore."

"Don't use this as some excuse to pull away from me now, Jean-Luc," she said in a low voice. "You can't do this on your own," she cautioned him. He looked away. She stared at him in frustration verging on anger, as Riker and Troi entered the transporter room followed by the rest of the away team.

"I have to go," Picard said and turned away from Beverly walking toward the transporter pad.

Not knowing what else to do, she turned and left the transporter room.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

When they arrived on Kronos, there were two Klingons to greet them. One, a tall male with piercing eyes glared at them in a not entirely friendly manner. The second, a female was familiar to them and broke into a smooth smile, particularly upon seeing Worf.

"Captain Picard," said Ambassador K'Ehleyr, walking forward to shake his hand. "A pleasure as always. Welcome back to Qo'noS. This is Captain Korok of the Klingon Defense Force." The tall Klingon nodded curtly. "Chancellor has commanded us to be your emissaries today, as Korok will be the Chancellor's principal during negotiation."

Picard and Riker glanced at one another. K'Ehleyr was a Klingon-Human hybrid and a Federation Ambassador. Was she here representing the Federation or the Klingon Empire?

K'Ehleyr smiled, guessing their confusion. "My…functions have changed somewhat since we last saw each other, Captain. I am here mainly as a facilitator, Captain—at the invitation of Chancellor K'empec."

Picard shook his head. "The Chancellor himself will not be participating in the conference?" Picard asked.

K'Ehleyr exchanged an intense glance with Korok. "The Chancellor is—"  
"The Chancellor is _busy_ ," Korok interrupted her with a growl. "But he will make appearances as warranted."

Picard looked at Riker again. "Very well then, let us proceed."

* * *

Four hours into negotiations Picard's headache was back. He consciously kept his hand away from his face which was also starting to itch and burn where he had sustained a cut the previous night.

Tomalak leaned forward. "Captain Picard, the purpose of the conference as you have said is to share information. Now we have been forthright with you. Enough dancing around the subject: we know you encountered a Borg cube last year. We are curious to learn all you know about it."

"Commander Tomalak, as I have said, the incident in System J-25 is highly classified. And I object to the characterization of your own behavior thus far at this conference as 'forthright'." The only thing truly forthright about Tomalak was his hostility. At any rate he continued. "The information we have on the Borg is limited. However Chief Engineer LaForge has prepared a visual presentation which he is willing to show any of your officers who wish to see it."

K'mpec glanced at Ambassador K'Ehleyr. The Starfleet Engineer had a device covering his eyes—or he was missing the organs altogether. Was he planning on projecting the presentation from that device? "Well, where is it then?" demanded Korok.

Picard smiled. "Chief Engineer LaForge has prepared this presentation as a holodeck program. In order to experience it he is willing to bring aboard my ship any of your representatives you wish to send."

"Korok shall go aboard your ship to view this presentation," said K'mpec.

"How clever, Picard. Information we can view...but presumably cannot take with us," remarked Tomalak. "We accept your invitation, Captain. Sub-Commander Saris will attend this presentation as well." He looked over at her with a meaningful glance, which she returned frostily. He saw her glance at LaForge who hadn't seemed to notice her yet.

"Tomorrow we will take your holodeck tour, Captain," said the Chancellor. "Now we must eat."

* * *

 **South Dakota, Earth 1881**

It took her two and a half Earth days to reach the city of Sioux Falls on foot. If she had not been staggering from heat exhaustion and hunger, and had not been herself covered in dust, dust would have been the first thing she would have noticed about the town. Many unsavory looking humans, mostly male traveled the streets, some on foot and many on horseback. Many of these individuals had weapons holstered at their hips. But Guinan was so tired and hungry that she was not afraid pf violence anymore. Smelling food, she walked into the first place she saw—it looked as though it was a public gathering place. She blinked once inside, because it was very dark. The smell of sweat and alcohol were predominant, but again, she didn't care. It was also very loud. S

he walked up to the bar. "Have you got anything to eat?" she asked with an impossibly dry mouth. "A drink of water would also be nice," she added.

The clamor ceased immediately, and most conversations stopped as all eyes turned to her. She glared back into the crowd, before repeating her request for food to the bartender.

He spit onto the floor behind the bar and twirled his greasy mustache. "Yeah, I got lots of food, but not for you. Move on," he said roughly.

"Oh, I don't think so," said Guinan, defiantly. "I am too hungry to _move on_."

Giving her a nasty look, the bartender reached behind the bar and grabbed a long gun, placing down loudly in front of him on the bar. It happened so quickly that she took a step back. At the bar, a hunched man wearing a large flat brimmed hat un-holstered his own gun and without hesitation placed it against the temple of the bartender. With his other hand he dropped a handful of coins on the table.

The bartender put up his hands. "Okay, okay…calm down, Pritchard."

The man grunted and then sat back down to attend to his drink. The bartender waved her over to the bar. "What'll you have?" he demanded of her, flicking a suspicious eye at the stranger in the hat.

"Water and then anything you have to eat is fine," she said, sitting down.

"Buffalo it is then," he said.

* * *

"I have to warn you," Ambassador K'Ehleyr said to Beverly Crusher and Deanna Troi as they neared the banquet hall. "Chancellor K'mpec is notoriously lecherous. He is constantly chasing females who are uninterested in him. Actually I have never known a female to be interested in him. Just be prepared…and I would suggest sitting as far away from him as possible during dinner just to discourage him," she said.

Crusher smiled and shrugged distractedly. She had too much on her mind to worry about an obnoxious Klingon. Troi, who had already been involved in the negotiations over the last half day was so exhausted from sifting through the emotions and motivations of the various conference participants that she had long ago learned to deflect the Chancellor's lurid thoughts.

K'Ehleyr fell into step beside Worf. "I have missed you," she said directly.

Worf growled. "Your presence is unexpected here. No doubt this is a ploy to confuse the loyalties of the conference participants."

She turned to look at him as they walked. "A ploy launched by whom? The Klingons, Humans, or Romulans?" Worf remained stony faced. "Really, you know me better than that, Worf! You _can't_ believe I am working for the Romulans now."

"I did _not_ say that," he protested.

She laughed and then looked at him more closely. "Is your nose broken? Perhaps you've found a new mate after all," she said casually.

He turned on her fiercely. "Why did you not tell me you would be here? Must I always be surprised by your appearance?"

K'Ehleyr shrugged, opening the door to the banquet hall. "Don't be so easily surprised, Worf," she said ushering him inside.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

When Geordi sat down next to the attractive but severe looking Romulan Sub-Commander Saris, he had no idea what to expect. He sipped from a glass of water in front of him. "So you're an engineer, huh?" He silently cursed himself. He probably sounded like an idiot to her. His fears were confirmed when she spoke.

"How perceptive of you," she said dryly.

He scratched his head. "Um…can I ask you a question? I'm not going to assume that all Romulans know each other, but a few months ago I was stranded on a planet with a Romulan centurion. His name was—"

"Bochra," said Saris, glancing at him. Tomalak had been right about this human, he was quite sentimental.

Geordi broke into a smile. "Yeah, you do know him! We couldn't stand each other at first but later on I think we kind of bonded. I was wondering…how is he?"

Saris turned and focused on Geordi with a laser stare. "Dead," she said simply.

"Wha-what? Oh," he said, sorry that he asked. He stared into his glass of water, and then noticed that most of the dishes being placed on the table were much less recognizable. And some of them seemed to be moving… "I could really go for a replicated hamburger right now," he said. "Most of this stuff seems kind of…alive."

"That is most unfortunate for you Mr. LaForge," said Saris.

"Call me Geordi," he said with a renewed grin.

"No," she said, not seeming to notice as his smile abruptly faded. "But it does not matter to me, for I do not eat Klingon food," she added with a disgusted face.

"When on Kronos, you will eat as the Klingons eat, if only for one day," Tomalak suddenly interjected from down the table, as he seated himself.

"Just follow my lead," Riker spoke up across the table from Saris. "I'm an old pro at this—eating Klingon food that is," he said with a charming wink.

Saris turned to LaForge. "Is your commanding officer attempting to seduce me?"

Laforge nearly dropped his glass. "Um…no I think he's just trying to be friendly. He's just really good at being friendly…."

* * *

Beverly had waited outside of the banquet hall for Picard to arrive. As he approached he looked as though a great weight was pressing down on him. He smiled weakly as he reached her and glanced around them before reaching out to touch her arm.

"I am sorry for before Beverly."

She took his hand. "I accept your apology," she said. She straightened briefly as an immense Klingon walked past them into the hall. Once the door shut again she moved in closer and put her lips to his ear, something she knew excited him. "Will you let me come and see you later?" she said softly.

He closed his eyes and nodded. "Yes," he agreed, but moved a little further away from her to more professional distance. "But I'm sure I don't deserve such a visit."

She looked down at their joined hands and sighed. "Why don't we go inside and sit down before you say something else that requires an apology later…."

"Alright," he agreed.

* * *

For the most part the mood at the Klingon banquet was better than expected, but things eventually took a turn for the worse. Picard, sat directly to the Chancellor's left, with Tomalak sitting across from him, which did nothing to help his headache. Between Tomalak's very potent Romulan ale and K'mpec's yelling, he was miserable. First the itching and burning began on his face again. The wound felt raw as if it had just been inflicted. And then the whispering started inside his brain.

"Why Captain," said Tomalak, "it has been some time since I have seen Human blood. But are you by any chance wounded?"

Picard reached up to touch his face lightly with his fingers and was rewarded by searing pain. "It's nothing," he said, returning to his food. He ignored Tomalak's delighted expression.

As K'Ehleyr had suggested Troi and Crusher sat as far away from the Chancellor as possible. It was a good try, but the Chancellor was on a roll all evening. "Captain, where did you find such a beautiful Doctor? Most Klingon doctors are disgustingly hideous."

The voice whispered in his mind, but he pushed it away. Picard put his fork down. "I do not select my officers based on their physical attributes, Chancellor," he said firmly, and picked up the fork again. He felt Tomalak's amused gaze upon him.

K'mpec broke into raucous laughter. "Captain, you can't be serious…even when her physical attributes are that pleasing to the eye? I am sure you do not value what you have here, my friend."

"Chancellor…I would prefer it if you would change the subject to a more appropriate topic," Picard said as the whisper in his head grew louder again. "I will not allow you to disrespect my officers," he said trying to keep his voice calm.

The Chancellor pressed on. "Well…Doctor Crusher if you would ever consider freelancing, I am in definite need of a new personal doctor. I haven't felt well as of late." He glared at Commander Korok with open accusation in his eyes. "Ha! I am old and fat. But do they think I do not recognize the difference between medicine and _poison_?"

Conversation suddenly hushed at the table.

Doctor Crusher trying to make the best of the situation smiled professionally. "We have a wonderful medical facility on board the Enterprise, Chancellor…I would be happy to provide you and your staff with a tour," she offered.

"I am _sure_ that you would," said the Chancellor with a devilish smile. "But I would like my own personal tour of-"

"I said…enough!" Without further hesitation Picard swiftly picked up the sharp knife next to his plate and thrust it into the table just underneath Chancellor K'mpec's jowly face. He stood up slowly as if to challenge the old man, and his expression was one of blind aggression.

Korok stood up and put his hand on his gun, which caused Worf to do the same. K'mpec gazed up at Picard, and then eventually began to laugh heartily, grabbing the knife and pulling it out of the table. He handed the knife to a nearby guard.

"I like you, Picard. Sit down, I mean no harm," he urged him. Picard's expression cleared somewhat and he sat back down looking slightly embarrassed. Worf and Korok sat down as well.

"To the Klingon-Federation Alliance," the Chancellor suddenly shouted, raising his glass. He tilted his head at Tomalak. "And to Romulan Ale," he added begrudgingly before draining his glass.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

Ensign Barnes was on the edge. The only thing that calmed his brain was Captain Picard's voice. He didn't know why but all day long as he watched Captain Picard speak at the conference he hung on every word as though the Captain was speaking directly to him, even though the Captain rarely did. And later that evening at the banquet the spring inside Barnes' young chest became so tight that he felt he would burst with emotion. Everything the Captain said was so true. Every order he gave was for a greater purpose. Choi had asked him twice what was wrong with him as though there was something wrong with being a loyal officer. What the hell did she know anyway?

But there was a problem. He couldn't trust these Romulans...and he wasn't too damn sure about the Klingons either. The only thing that made sense to Barnes was that Captain Picard was a great man. It would be an honor to die for such a man…even to kill for him. He wished he could warn the Captain to watch out for Tomalak. Barnes saw how the Romulan just stared at the Captain as though he was plotting.

The Romulans were always plotting, and couldn't be trusted. _Enemy._ He couldn't get that thought out of his head. Last night he had dreamt that he was on a great battlefield. He was fighting the Borg and up ahead of him was Captain Picard. At least fifty other Enterprise crew members fought alongside them. He had been so convinced that it had been real that when he woke up he couldn't stop thinking about it. And when he reported for duty and Choi had greeted him with that casual nod of hers he had nearly demand why she hadn't been there, fighting with him; fighting for the Captain.

Now he sat next to this smug looking nameless Romulan centurion as they both watched a spirited discussion unfold among Picard, Tomalak and K'mpec all the way at the end of the table. There was no harmless synthehol at the table and Barnes had been drinking too much ale. And the more he drank the more he felt rage toward the Romulans. The Romulans might as well be in league with the damn Borg….

It was so difficult to tell anymore who was an ally. Even the Klingon leader had insulted Doctor Crusher and then had laughed at the Captain. Nobody insulted Captain Picard and got away with it. Not while Ensign Barnes was around.  
Barnes gripped the metal cup in his hand as the pressure inside his skull grew. He wanted to smash the Romulan next to him in his smug face.

The Romulan sitting next to Barnes did have a name; it was Tothas. And Tothas _was_ trying to plot against the Humans and Klingons. The problem was he was enraptured by the voice of his enemy. For some reason, he could not help but hang on Picard's every word. Suddenly even Tomalak paled in comparison to the Enterprise Captain, and Tothas did not understand why. But Tothas knew where his loyalties lay; where they were supposed to rest: right at the feet of the Romulan Empire. But yet everything Picard said rang true. As the conflict within Tothas grew, he became more enraged at the stupid looking Starfleet security officer who sat next to him. In addition the Human was giving him the dirtiest of looks. That was how it all started.

"What are you looking at, you _dirty_ Romulan?" Barnes suddenly declared, slurring his speech. He held up his heavy metal cup as if offering to smash it into Tothas' face. Then, without waiting politely for the sneering Romulan to answer, he did smash the metal cup into the face of his foe.

In response, Tothas grabbed Barnes by the head and slammed him into the table. Barnes' colleague Ensign Choi, who was really just trying to help out a fellow officer chopped Tothas across the back of the neck, causing him to flail backwards into her. And as she hit the wall another Romulan and a Klingon guard became involved in the fray.

LaForge threw his hands out to deflect a spinning plate which nearly struck Sub-Commander Saris. She looked at him with genuine surprise and then disgust as a piece of writhing Klingon food landed with a plop on his head.

* * *

Riker and K'Ehleyr stood up at the same time with a shout, which is when everyone noticed that air grew still and the objects in the room seemed blur at the edges. The walls seemed to shimmer around them as though their surroundings were not real. Captain Picard was standing up now and his eyes had grown dark. He walked toward the fight and halted in front of Ensign Barnes. Riker could hardly believe his eyes as a smoky substance exited from Picard's chest and appeared to enter Barnes' throat. Picard reached out with one hand and lifted Barnes into the air by his collar. He began speaking in a deep voice that seemed to reverberate through the room. And the voice did not sound like Captain Picard's at all. Moreover, the words he spoke were unintelligible. _"Thir en ral en hai sem lai…."_ But what Ensign Barnes understood clearly was: _"My servant…leave the fighting for the true enemy…soon all of these creatures will be under my power…."_ The eyes of both Barnes and Picard shone black as they stared at each other.

Suddenly a shot rang out and Picard turned around to fix his gaze on Chancellor K'mpec, who had just discharged his antique disruptor into the ceiling of the banquet hall. He lowered the weapon slowly as it smoked in his hand. "I think it is time to call it a night," declared the Chancellor.

* * *

"Commander Riker what is the meaning of this?" Commander Tomalak demanded. Riker looked from the Romulan to K'mpec and sighed. Worf stood nearby with his arms crossed over his chest. Captain Picard and the rest of the crew had unceremoniously returned to the Enterprise just minutes earlier.

"I can explain…." Riker trailed off realizing that he was at a loss himself—actually he wasn't sure if he could explain.

"It would seem that your Captain is…possessed by some kind of demon," observed Chancellor K'mpec. "This would seem an unfortunate barrier to our negotiations."

"Normally I would disagree with whatever the Chancellor said, but I have to agree, that this turn of events is _most_ disagreeable," said Tomalak.

"Captain Picard is under the influence of an alien artifact…at times," said Riker slowly. He knew he was taking a chance by being honest, but he feared that any further subterfuge would only be met by more hostility. "But I assure you that he is fine and perfectly competent to continue the negotiations. Don't forget it was Captain Picard who stopped the fight at the banquet."

"A fight that was started by _your_ junior officer, Commander," Tomalak nearly shouted. "What is your excuse for that? Was he under the influence as well?"

"Clearly the ale you brought us was more than potent, Tomalak," Chancellor K'mpec said accusingly.

Riker had no reasonable explanation for Barnes. "I can assure you that Ensign Barnes will be punished for his assault on your crewman, Commander Tomalak," he said tightly.

"Commander Riker, I am no _feanna_ who was born yesterday," Tomalak said with a scowl. He poked his finger at Riker. "You are either gambling with circumstances you clearly do not understand—or you are disregarding the singular importance of this conference. As far as I am concerned any further acts of violence against my people will be considered an act of war!" He turned on his heel and left the room.

The Chancellor eyed Riker. "Thank you for an entertaining evening, Commander. I trust tomorrow will be just as interesting," he added before leaving.

* * *

 **Thanks again for reading, everyone...**


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

Earth, 1881

After eating a full meal, Guinan had fallen asleep in the alleyway of a building adjacent to the bar. Just after dawn she stretched her sore muscles and stepped cautiously out into the empty street looking around her. Only a few horses stood tied loosely to posts lining the street. There were two beautiful chestnut colored horses standing together near the bar she had been in last evening. Cautiously she walked over and reached out her hand to one of them. He turned his giant head toward her and looked at her with a big gentle eye. She watched him for a moment and then began speaking softly to him.

Just then there was a commotion from the bar. "I said get outta here! You've been cut off for good." A man came stumbling out of the door, followed by the bartender who leveled a kick at the man's backside, shoving him into a mud puddle. The man, the same one who had come to her rescue the night before landed face first with a graceless thud on the ground. The bartender spat on the ground next to the man. "Not so tough now are ya, Pritchard? You dirty drunk…." The bartender didn't seem to see her, as he turned and walked back in to his fine establishment slamming the door behind him.

Guinan continued to pet the horse while watching the man out of the corner of her eye. The man coughed and grunted, pushing himself to a sitting position. He took off his hat and wacked it on his knee as caked mud sprayed everywhere. He was almost completely bald, with an interesting nose and strong jaw. He plopped the muddy hat back on his head and looked up at her. "You speak horse, huh?"

She looked at him. "Apparently, yes."

He squinted up at her as the sun began to make an appearance in the sky. Soon it would be too hot to think, but for now, it was quite pleasant. He rose to a crouching position. "Oh yeah? So what's the horse got to say?"

She raised her non-existent eyebrow at him. "You really want to know?"

He shrugged so she told him. "He says his human smells bad. He wonders if all humans smell as bad as his human."

Pritchard got to his feet and took his hat off pointing it at her. "Now look here, that's my horse—"

"I figured," she said mildly.

He snorted, which turned into a deep laugh. He put the hat back on his head still watching her. She whispered into the horse's ear again, an old El-Aurian poem of good luck. She figured if the horse was traveling with this human, he would need some luck. As the man listened to her speak, his expression changed suddenly, and she could tell that it was one of shock and recognition. She stopped speaking immediately. Did he understand her?

She moved away from the horse and folded her hands in front of her. "I owe you for what you did for me last night. Thank you," she said sincerely.

He blinked, somehow surprised to have heard such a sentiment. "Don't matter," he said. "I've got plenty of money. You wouldn't know it to look at me," he added with a half grin.

"No I wouldn't," she said, returning his smile. "But that's not what I meant. It wasn't the money. You helped me out, Mr. Pritchard, and I am in your debt."

He reached into a small satchel at his side and pulled out a small plug of tobacco which he stuck in his mouth and began to chew, still watching her. After a few moments he spit a disgusting stream of brown liquid onto the ground. "I don't believe in holding a debt over no one's head," he said slowly, as though he had thought about this subject for a long time.

She shifted her feet. She wasn't sure if she should push her luck or not. "I'm trying to get somewhere," she said.

"Oh? It's always good to have a place to go," he said absently, adjusting a bag attached to the saddle of his horse.

"Maybe you know it…it's called the Black Hills."

He turned his head sharply to look at her. "Know of it? Yep, I spent a good deal of time there. Where I made my fortune, in fact," he added.

She broke into a relieved smile. "Can you give me directions to get there?"

He looked at her like she was crazy. "Now this territory ain't safe traveling for a woman on her own. Come to think of it, it ain't safe for no one."

"Trust me, Pritchard, I know how to travel," she said.

He laughed. "Sure…listen the Black Hills are nearly 400 miles away from here." He looked her up and down. "So you don't exactly have the means now, do you?"

"How long on horseback?" she asked, not even too sure how long a mile was.

He laughed and then spit again leaning against his horse. "Depends on how far you are able to ride each day. With a good horse, you could do 20-30 miles a day if you are willing, and that'd take you just shy of three weeks."

She was crestfallen, for she had a pretty good idea how long a week was.

"Of course," he added, seeing her expression. "You would need a good guide to get you from here to there."

She brightened. "Are you offering your services?"

He shrugged. "Got nothing better to do, I suppose. Sure…on the condition that you tell me why you're goin' out that way. And your name," he added.

So far she hadn't told anyone her real name, but for some reason now she felt compelled to. "My name is Guinan," she said. "And I'm looking for something," she paused. "It's very precious."

"Precious? Like a gem? Like gold? Because I can find those," he said confidently.

Guinan had no idea what either of those things were so she said no.

Pritchard frowned. "Well, what's it look like?"

She smiled. "It looks like…what you want most in the world at the moment you first see it—and to every person that is a different thing."

A deeply remorseful expression passed over the man's face at that moment. He looked down and scuffed his boots. "I'd like to see somethin' like that," he said, his voice suddenly full of emotion. "Very much."

She stuck out her hand for him to shake. "So is it a deal then?"

He took her hand and shook it once firmly. "It is."

* * *

 **Enterprise**

"You know, Captain, if I didn't know you better, I would think you were hiding," said Guinan. Picard sat inside her quarters. Before this evening he hadn't even considered that she had quarters. It was just easier somehow to picture her living within the confines of Ten Forward.

His hands gripped a hot cup of tea. He looked up at her. "Hiding? From who?"

"You tell me," she suggested, adjusting her hat. He didn't say anything, but sipped his tea slowly. "How was dinner?" she asked casually.

"Well aside from me threatening Chancellor K'mpec with a knife, and a brawl breaking out while everyone was eating, I'm sure that something could have been worse."

Guinan smiled slightly. "Captain you and I both know that a brawl at a Klingon dinner is almost to be expected."

He looked at her. "Yes, but we started the brawl, Guinan. Ensign Barnes attacked one of the Romulan officers for no apparent reason."

"And why did you threaten the Chancellor?"

He reddened with embarrassment. "He was being rather rude and flirtatious with Beverly and for some reason I let it get the better of me. For his part, he took it well."

"And Beverly?"

He shook his head. "She's not talking to me," he admitted.

"And you seem kind of glad about that," she commented.

He frowned. "What?"

"You're keeping your distance. You're afraid of hurting her," she said.

He covered his face with his palms briefly and then looked back up at her. "And why shouldn't I be? Look at what is happening to me? It's as though all of my control is slipping away."

"Captain I think that this…acting out that you are doing is just one symptom of your connection with the Other. And my friend, it is only going to get worse if you let it."

He looked at her with growing desperation. "What should I do? What must I do to break free of this?"

She sat forward. "Captain, he's only been defeated once before. We have to find Orla, and bring the piece to her. She is the only one who will know what to do. Until then my best advice is to fight him with everything you have. And…to strengthen the ties with the people you care about. Love and friendship are concepts that offend his very nature."

He put down the cup and took a slow breath. "Orla is your god figure," he said flatly.

"One of them, yes," she said. "But more importantly she is our protector. In times of trouble we have always looked to her."

"And has she always helped you?"

Guinan shook her head without hesitation. "No."

"But you have seen her?" he asked skeptically. "She's actually real?"

"Oh yes. The problem is that in order to find her she must give us a sign that she is willing to see us."

Picard got up and began pacing. He shook his hands. "A sign! This is maddening. I don't even know how far this will go—what will happen to me. And I don't appreciate having to rely on some—some ancient religion to save me. No offense," he added apologetically.

She watched him curiously. "None taken," she said mildly.

They both turned toward the door at the sound of the chime. "Come in" Guinan said, getting to her feet next to Picard. The door slid open to reveal Beverly Crusher leaning against the doorframe.

"Beverly," he said, sounding and looking surprised.

"I thought I would find you here," she said half accusingly to Picard. "Guinan," she said nodding to the bartender by way of greeting.

Guinan smiled. "Doctor, can I get you something? Some tea perhaps?"

Crusher shook her head, still staring at Picard. "When are you going to stop avoiding me?"

He put his hands up. "I wouldn't, Beverly honestly, if I could just trust myself."

"Jean-Luc, no one knows exactly what is happening to you. But if you don't allow us to help you, it's only going to be worse." She looked to Guinan. "Am I right?"

Guinan looked at Picard. "Yes, she is."

Beverly walked to him and took his hands. "Even when you were in a trance last night you were still trying to protect me. I don't believe that you would hurt me, Jean-Luc. And as long as I trust you, you have to continue to trust yourself. If you don't you will just be giving the Other the things that Guinan says he feeds off. So please continue to remember who you really are…the person that I love."

He attempted a brave smile. "I will," he said moving into her embrace.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

"The situation with Captain Picard is troubling," said Sub-Commander Saris.

Tomalak was contemplative as he drank his tea. "How so?" he questioned.

Saris fell silent because she knew he did not truly desire an answer. Instead she knew he intended to continue speaking, which he did. "It is yet another weakness to exploit Saris, and if we are careful and cunning, it may be far more than that."

"Commander do you intend to extend an offer to Picard then?" She asked, somewhat surprised.

Tomalak flicked his teacup with his finger. "The conditions appear to be right," he said slowly. He looked up at her with a disturbing smile. "Tomorrow I will decide. Meanwhile you are scheduled to observe the Starfleet engineer's presentation tomorrow, and I expect you to perform to my expectations. Your cousin Bochra failed to impress...and look where it got him."

Saris tilted her head towards him. "Is that a threat?"

"Oh yes."

* * *

Pritchard had disappeared for about an hour and when he returned down a path back in to town he looked somewhat fresher, even though his clothes were still dusty. "Nothing like a bath in the cool morning," he declared.

"Bath?" she asked.

"There's a stream back yonder," he said gesturing back where he'd come from.

"For those of us that need washing," he added with sly glance. He adjusted his hat. "Now Guinan, if you talk to Ulysses again, be sure to tell him he don't exactly smell like roses either."

"Ulysses is your horse?

"Yep," he said distractedly, looking toward a patch of greenery on a hill nearby. He surveyed it silently and then smiled to himself practically skipping toward the hill. "The other horse is his sister Peaches."

Guinan had no translation for "Peaches". "I will be sure to let Ulysses know then," she said.

Guinan now watched the man as he stooped on a dusty hillside. He was not particularly tall, but was broad shouldered and sturdy. At his feet were patches of flora of various colors. Humming to himself he carefully picked himself an assortment of flowers until he had a raggedy looking bunch in his hand.

As Guinan watched him she noted that the sun was growing very hot and it was nearly mid-day. Her stomach growled with hunger. She also began to think that she too needed a bath. "What are you doing?" she asked, wondering when they would leave town.

He scrambled deftly back down the hill toward her. He held out the handful of flowers for her to inspect. "They're for a lady," he said with a smile, putting the emphasis on the word 'lady'. "Well, you're a gal…what do you think? Are they pretty?"

She furrowed her brow. "Yes…but they were prettier while growing on the hillside. Now they are on their way to being dead. What do you need them for anyway?"

Pritchard laughed and began to walk away. "If you saw her, you'd know," he said.

* * *

She followed him through town mainly because she didn't have anything better to do, and of course she didn't want him to leave town without her. He kept walking, whistling happily until he reached a large white building. She heard laughter and shouting inside and wondered if they were serving food in there. Leaning against a tree in the shade Guinan watched Pritchard march up to the door flowers in hand. He knocked on the door.

A large woman answered the door, opening it only part-way. She seemed quite familiar with Mr. Pritchard. "Listen John, she doesn't want to see you." Her eyes dropped to the flowers in his grasp. "Pretty…did you finally drink all of your money away, or are you trying to prove somethin' with those flowers?"

He tried to move his boot into the doorway, but she yanked the doorknob closing the door on his foot. "Ow! Cassie, I need to see her," he exclaimed. "I'm going out of town and I won't be back for a while…."

"We all know what you need, Pritchard," Cassie laughed. "And any girl can give you the same thing. Come on and just pick another girl—pick ten other girls, you've got the cash."

"I don't want another girl, I want Sandy," he insisted.

"Why?" the Madame asked in a sing-song voice.

"You know why," he said in a low voice.

"Yeah and Sandy knows too. Maybe she don't want to be compared to your dead wife anymore, you ever think of that?"

He banged the flowers against his leg angrily, and petals exploded into the air. "She's not dead…I told you, she ran off."

"So all you need is a red-headed whore who don't care about you, and you forget all about her? Only you could turn plain sex into somethin' creepy, Pritchard. You're starting to scare my girls, especially Sandy."

"I love her," he said resolutely.

You don't love Sandy, John Pritchard; you love your dead wife."

He shook his head and rubbed the bridge of his nose, stepping backward. The bouquet of flowers dropped from his grasp onto the dusty ground. Slowly he turned and walked away as the door slammed shut again.

* * *

"Commander, this is the second time in less than twenty-four hours that you have contacted me without permission from Captain Picard", Nechayev pointed oTellTell me, is the chain of command broken on board your ship?" I

"No sir," said Riker tightly. "But these are highly unusual circumstances, and I am concerned about Captain Picard." He explained what had happened that evening at dinner.

Nechayev's eyes narrowed. "Is this...affliction of Captain Picard's interfering with the negotiations?"

Riker paused. "Not yet, Admiral. But it is only a matter of time before it does."

"How do you know? What is Counselor Troi's opinion?"

"She says he is doing his best to resist, but his ability to do so may be weakening. We don't want to lose him, Admiral."

She nodded and for a moment she seemed genuinely concerned as well. "Would it be possible for Counselor Troi to somehow strengthen his mental faculties, or perhaps to block the influence of this alien artifact?"

"I will ask her if it's possible," agreed Riker. "But it could be risky...for both of them."

"Desperate times have always called for desperate measures, Commander Riker."

"Aye sir."

"And in the future if you have concerns about Captain Picard's health I suggest you mention them to the ship's chief medical officer."

* * *

Pritchard picked up the flowers and walked silently away from the brothel scuffing his feet in the dirt. As he passed by Guinan he handed her the flowers without slowing his pace. "Hey!" She yelled trotting after him. "Where are you going?" She wanted to get going, and here he was heading off on another tangent. "If I can't get laid then I am sure as hell going to get drunk," he said over his shoulder. "Is this how you handle all of your problems, Pritchard?" She shouted after him as he continued to wander away.

"Only the big ones," he yelled back.

"What would your wife think of you doing this to yourself, drinking your life away..." He spun on his heel and pointed at her. He was livid. "I swear if you mention my wife again our deal is off!"

She shrugged. "Fine. But when are we leaving? I have business, Pritchard."

"Business," he growled. He looked like he wanted to say something more but instead just kicked the dirt and turned to resume his march through the streets. "Just give me three hours," he promised her grumpily. She threw up her hands, but really what was she to do?

* * *

Riker sat with his head in his hands. He knew that eventually he might have to take command, if he couldn't help the Captain pull free from this object that was controlling him. If only he could just think it all through. His communicator beeped and he sat up straighter. "Riker here," he said tiredly.

"Commander…we have a situation in the brig," Worf reported. "There is something very wrong with Ensign Barnes."

Riker sighed. Now what? "I'm on my way," he said.

"Let me go! Let me go!" Ensign Barnes writhed and flailed his arms, as Worf and Ensign Choi attempted to restrain him. They had already stunned him…twice, and he was still fighting them.

"What the hell is going on here?" Riker demanded striding in to the cell block. "Barnes, get yourself under control!"

"Traitors!" Barnes shrieked. "Traitors! Captain Picard will have your heads! He will kill you himself, mark my words."

"Barnes!" Riker walked up to the cell. The young man seemed to stare through him as his body shuddered with exertion. Riker nodded to Worf and Choi. "Let him go and step out here. He can sit in the cell until he cools down."

Worf glanced at Riker once they were standing side by side. "Sir, we stunned him twice because he was repeatedly throwing himself against the force field barrier."

Riker nodded. "You did the right thing, Lieutenant. We don't want him to harm himself further."

"But the stun setting had no effect, sir," Ensign Choi informed him.

Riker looked down at her. "You were next to him at dinner. What happened?"

She ran a hand through her short hair. Riker noticed she had a bruise over her right eye from the brawl on Kronos. "I-I don't know, sir. He just…went off on the Romulan."

"Did the Romulan officer do anything to provoke him?"

Choi shook her head. "The Romulan was giving us dirty looks all night sir, but that's nothing new…Romulans always do that. I don't know sir."

Riker turned his attention back to Barnes. The man stood inside the cell breathing heavily and glaring at them.

"Let me out of here," he demanded. "Captain Picard needs me!"

Riker walked forward. "Why?"

"He—he needs me. He needs all of us," he said looking up at Riker accusingly. "We have to help him get to the fortress. If we don't, the Borg will win."

"Have you been fighting the Borg, Ensign Barnes? With Captain Picard?"

Barnes suddenly struck the force field, and then staggered backwards. "You wouldn't have to ask me that if you had been there! Traitors!"

"Why will the Borg win?" Worf asked, unaffected by the screaming man.

"The Old King is much too weak now to challenge the Borg. He must be dealt with. And only Captain Picard can kill him." His breathing became faster and he paced around his cell furiously.

"Who is he?" asked Riker. "Who is the Old King?"

Barnes didn't seem to hear him. His face was nearly purple he was so enraged. "Let me out!" he screamed.

Pritchard kept walking through town, so she followed him. Guinan figured he would return to the bar…while he was drinking himself into a stupor she would go and take a bath in the stream, and then in a few hours they would finally leave town. But things didn't turn out the way she planned. It seemed that lately, things almost never did.

Out of nowhere rode six men on horseback kicking up a great cloud of dust. One horse was pulling a cart on which a man sat holding the reigns- various wooden crates and other items were packed inside the cart. The other five men trotted around Pritchard encircling him. They were heavily armed. "Oh shit," she heard him say under his breath. Guinan stepped back, remembering all too well the horror she had felt when she had been attacked by the white hooded riders just a few weeks earlier.

"Pritchard, you son of a bitch!" yelled one of the men with a long scraggly beard. He rode forward brandishing a gun, which he leveled at Pritchard's chest. "I come for what's mine, you thieving devil," he snarled.

"I'm no thief, Bill," retorted Pritchard. "It's you who takes what you got no right to."

The man cocked the gun. "One of these days, Pritchard I am going to shoot you…but right now I will give you one minute before I have my boys beat you senseless."

"Boss, he ain't got any sense no how," one of his sidekicks laughed.

"Shut up, Lenny," said Bill Loomey turning his attention back to Pritchard. "I want to know where the claim is you staked, and I want my share of gold you promised me. I thought you were an honorable man, Pritchard."

"Listen here Bill, you killed my partner…and then you tried to do me the same," said Pritchard. "Any promises I made you were strictly conditional on you not attempting to murder me—so there you have it—our deal is null and void."

Loomey nodded to two of his henchman, who climbed down from their horses. One of the men, identified as Lenny, held a short heavy club, and the other held a coiled whip in his hand. Lenny walked up to Pritchard, slapping the club into his meaty hand. He grinned and nodded over at Guinan. "Got yourself a new friend, huh?"

Pritchard took off his hat as though he was trying to be polite, and stepped closer to the grinning man. "Yeah," he said, before violently head-butting the man just above the eye. Lenny staggered backward and fell to one knee. The other man lashed out suddenly with the whip and caught Pritchard in the side of his neck with a stinging blow. Pritchard grunted and ran toward the man to close the distance as quickly as he could. Adjusting quickly, the man hit Pritchard in the temple with the thick handle of the whip. He fell to the ground, and the two men began kicking him repeatedly.

Guinan knelt down and pulled an object from her boot. She held it up. "Leave him alone!" she shouted.

Loomey sneered at her. "What's that a rock?" he laughed. "I don't think you know your place, you little—"

Guinan fired the disruptor at him, very careful not to hit the horse he was sitting on. It was a very heavy stun, the kind that made you wish the setting had been set to kill when you woke up vomiting and unable to walk straight for hours.

Pritchard slowly uncurled on the ground and struggled to his feet, punching Lenny in the face once and then twice. Guinan shot the man with the whip, and when the other men in the gang pulled out their guns, she shot them too, again on heavy stun. Pritchard coughed and wiped blood from his mouth, looking on the scene with a stunned expression. He watched Guinan with his jaw open as she casually placed the small disruptor back in her boot.

Suddenly coming out of his confused stupor he seemed to notice the horse drawn cart for the first time. Elated he scrambled up on to it and began rummaging through some of the crates. Upon seeing the contents he began to laugh enthusiastically. He grabbed two of the crates and jumped down. "Change of plans," he declared. He placed the two wooden boxes in Guinan's arms. "Can you take these over to the stream? I'll go and get the horses, and meet you over there as quick as I can."

Guinan nodded, backing away. "Your last business partner was killed?"

His eyes twinkled with amusement. "Don't worry; I'd say you already have better luck than he did."

* * *

He ran the back of his hand down her side to her waist and then moved it against her hip in a circular motion. She responded by pressing against him and biting his bottom lip softly as their kiss deepened. She brought her knee up along his thigh, until it rested against his lower ribs. "I missed you," she said softly between kisses. He moved his head to the side to kiss her neck and he heard her breath quicken. She moved her palm over his back and pressed her fingertips into his skin as he kissed her collarbone. Suddenly he froze. Beverly's hand tightened on his lower back. "What's wrong?" she whispered.

"I can't," he said quietly into her shoulder. His head had begun to ache, and his vision blurred around the edges.

She shifted underneath him and kissed the side of his head with a smile. "Of course you can…" she reassured him.

"No, it's not that. I'm dizzy," he said, resting his forehead against her shoulder. "I'm sorry, I just—"

She rolled him off of her gently and he grabbed his head. "It's alright," she said sitting up and putting her hand on his chest, rubbing it gently. His eyes were shut tightly. As she watched him the nasty cut on his face slowly reappeared and began to bleed slowly down the side of his face. She moved quickly to get out of bed and grabbed her med kit. Pulling out a pressure pad, she placed it on his face and it instantly tightened, meshing with his skin. At least for now, it seemed to staunch the flow of blood.

She pulled on his bathrobe and stood back watching him. "Why is it doing this, Jean-Luc? I thought having the stone nearby was supposed to prevent these wounds from returning."

He sat up slowly in bed and pulled the covers over his lap. "I don't know," he said in confusion. "I think he is angry at me…I have been outside of his world for too long and he wants me to return. Beverly," he said, looking up at her with a worried expression. "He's becoming stronger. It's as if…he's nearly here with us now. He is reaching into our world, and eventually no one will be safe."

* * *

 **Thanks for your spirited reviews, much appreciated.**


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

Later that night, Beverly had woken up curled on her side. Jean-Luc was tucked against her gripping her waist tightly. His breathing was sporadic and she imagined that he was dreaming that he was running. She hoped that he was chasing someone and not being chased himself. He pressed his forehead against her shoulder blade as though he was trying to hide, but then gradually his body relaxed.

He murmured something into her ear, but she couldn't tell if he was awake or not. His arm loosened from around her waist and he brought his hand up to caress her cheek. "Yes," he murmured as if answering someone in his dream. She felt his lips on the back of her neck. She took in a sharp breath as his left hand dropped in between her breasts. He murmured something again, and she pressed her body back into his feeling her heart beat faster under his fingers. They were both aroused now, but she still couldn't tell if he was awake. "Are you awake?" She whispered over her shoulder to him as his hand dropped lower between her legs. He didn't answer and her breathing quickened. He pressed against her and lifted her nightgown….

* * *

The immense hooded figure towered above him holding a black globe shaped object in his outstretched arms. He knelt immediately, overpowered by his devotion to his master. _"You have been reluctant to leave your lesser world to return to mine …to your world,_ " boomed the voice. " _Thus I made you a counterpart. You will need no one else ever_ ," boomed the figure.

Her auburn hair shone as he watched her, turning a fiery red in the fading sunlight. He stroked the side of her cheek as she gazed upon him. At her side was a long staff with a gleaming sharp blade at one end. In her other hand she held a tall bow and on her back was a quiver of arrows. He perceived that in every way she was his equal. This must be the queen he had been searching for. He turned his head to kiss her and she caught his chin in her strong fingers. Her blue eyes quickly clouded with tendrils of black. "Do you pledge to kill the Old King?" she demanded. "Yes," he said, and she gripped his shoulders drawing him to her as her lips greeted his fiercely.

* * *

 **The next morning…**

"So, why do you think Barnes is behaving this way?" Riker asked as Troi sat down across from him in the main conference room.

Troi had just met with Ensign Barnes, and looked worried to say the least. "As with Captain Picard, Barnes has been traveling in another reality, for lack of a better word. When he returns to life as we know it-or to life as he used to know it, he finds it harder and harder to relate to what use to be his normal life."

"So when he said he has been battling the Borg he meant he has been dreaming of fighting the Borg-as the Captain has..."

Deanna shook her head. "Not exactly. _We_ envision it as some kind of dream state because they are experiencing these events at night when they should be sleeping. But there are some significant factors which support that this world they are being drawn to each night is quite real."

"Like actual wounds," Riker said. Troi nodded. "So is it actually possible that they are fighting the Borg? If so, why?"

"The significance of the Borg is as yet unclear to Captain Picard, Ensign Barnes, or even to Guinan, who seems to know more about this than anyone."

Riker paused thoughtfully. "We need to keep her in the loop then, Deanna. Any time we get glimpse into this world, I need you to sit down with Guinan, and analyze the data. We need to find out how to stop the Other."

"Agreed," she said.

Riker tapped his fingers on the table distractedly. "I see why Captain Picard was targeted; he found the artifact. But why is Barnes so special?"

"That is yet another disturbing revelation. He's _not_ special. In fact I would guess from sensing his thoughts that Barnes is expendable as far as the Other is concerned, and judging by his intense and single-minded desire to re-enter that world, Ensign Barnes does not seem to mind his lowly status. But there is something even more disturbing, Will...Barnes said that he saw at least _fifty_ other members of the crew when he last experienced the battle."

"So… are you saying the Other is trying to control our entire crew?"

Deanna nodded. "Captain Picard told me that the Other wants him to build an army—presumably to fight the Borg."

Riker sat back heavily in his chair. "What if the Other decides he doesn't want to stop once he has this crew, Deanna? Why not the Romulans…or the Klingons too—why stop with us?"

"Good question," said Troi. "And one I don't suppose we'll know the answer to anytime soon. Another puzzle is why all of the people so far selected by the Other have only minimal connections to Captain Picard. Why not any of us? Why not his command crew? Why not Beverly?"

Riker thought for a few moments. "If I recall before all of this started getting weird, Ensign Barnes professed to be a great admirer of Captain Picard. But many of our young officers are."

"And yet they have very little interaction with him on a daily basis," Troi said thoughtfully. "Put simply, they don't know him, and probably fear him a little bit."

"Meanwhile those of us who are closer to him—not that anyone is really _close_ to Captain Picard—we are the ones who are trying to help him," said Riker. "And the Other is not the least bit interested in us. At least so far."

Troi brightened a bit. "I think you've touched on something here Will. I think that we are a threat to the Other."

"Good. We need to keep it that way." Riker got up and walked around the table, sitting down on the edge of it next to Troi. "Deanna, Admiral Nechayev had a suggestion for how to protect Captain Picard from the Other, at least to get him through the negotiations."

Troi smiled faintly. "But you are hesitant to do so. You are worried about both the Captain…and me."

"Yes, of course I am," he said looking down at her. "You know I wouldn't put you at risk, but…."

"I know you wouldn't put any of us at risk if you didn't have to," she said gently.

"But especially not you," he said taking her hand and squeezing it. She smiled up at him. "Anyway…the Admiral suggested you try some kind of mind-link with the Captain, to try and steady him, or perhaps even to weaken the link with the Other."

Deanna stood up. "Of course I will try it. Whether it will work is unclear however."

"If I were you Counselor, I would reconsider that plan," Guinan said. They looked over to find her standing in the entryway to the conference room. Deanna noted not for the first time that the bartender had impeccable timing.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

Guinan had never ridden a horse before and Peaches seemed to sense this. But the escape from Sioux Falls had been so quick that it was sheer adrenaline that kept her hanging on to Peaches the horse. She struggled to hold on to the reigns of the horse, who seemed to know which way to go. Peaches followed her big brother Ulysses who galloped ahead of her with Pritchard on his back. They kept up this pace as far as she could tell for the better part of an hour.

Gradually they came to a low lying valley, and Ulysses slowed to a trot. For the first time in miles, Pritchard turned back and gestured for her to slow down. She did her best, but again Peaches seemed thankfully to know best. Both horses slowed to a walk and Pritchard pointed straight ahead to a clearing surrounded by trees.

Pritchard jumped down from his horse and led Ulysses into a shady area under a tree, looping his lead around a low lying branch. He then jogged over to Peaches who had begun grazing on some sweet grass and grabbed the reigns leading her over to stand next to Ulysses. Reaching up he helped Guinan dismount shakily from the horse.

Weak and hungry she collapsed against a tree. Pritchard rummaged through the saddle bags, whistling to himself. He had hastily stuffed the bags with goods from the wooden crates they had stolen from Bill Loomey's gang. He tossed her a small skin full of water, which she caught gratefully and began to drink.

He patted Peaches on her flank and took a long drink of water. He took off his hat and swatted a fly out of his face, rubbing the crook of his elbow over his sweaty brow. He sniffed in. The air smelled good down in this field. But he knew they couldn't stay here long safely. He scratched the back of his neck and glanced over at Guinan, unable to hide his curiosity any longer. He turned and leaned back against Peaches who nuzzled his neck affectionately. He pulled an apple out of his pocket and gave it to the horse casually, not removing his gaze from Guinan. Ulysses snorted nearby, as he apparently also would have enjoyed a tasty apple.

Guinan put her water down, not wanting to drink it all at once. Now that they were on the move, who knows when they would have more? "What?" she said, noticing his piercing stare.

"I've been around…I was in the War," he said. "But I ain't never seen a gun that shoots fire…and doesn't kill."

"Well," said Guinan slowly. "I've been around too. Like I said before…I know how to travel." She folded her arms over her chest and returned his gaze impassively.

He put his hat back on his head. "And?"

She looked at him and shrugged.

He took his hat off again and held it to his chest, studying her closely. "Where are you from?"

"Louisiana," she said easily.

He snorted. "Louisiana, _my foot_. You ain't from Louisiana…."

She shrugged again. "Where are you from?"

He straightened proudly. "I'm a Buckeye, through and through. Just like Generals Grant and Sherman."

She looked at him blankly.

"I'm from _Ohio_ ," he said testily.

"Ah…" she said as if that meant something to her, and settled back against the tree.

Pritchard cursed under his breath and shoved his hat down over his head. _Everyone_ knew who General Ulysses Grant was, didn't they? "He used to be the President for Pete's sake!" He blurted out, shooting her an annoyed look. "You ready to head out of here? Loomey won't be far behind. And he will be only too happy to shoot the both of us," he said gruffly.

"He can always try," Guinan said, not sounding particularly concerned as she got up from the ground. She stepped into the stirrup pushed off, hoisting herself up into the saddle.

Pritchard watched her. "Not bad," he admitted. "By the end of this adventure you'll be an expert rider. But let's go now, before our adventure ends prematurely."

* * *

"What a _pretty_ ship you have," the Klingon Commander Korok sneered as he stomped through the ship next to Geordi LaForge. On LaForge's other side was the Romulan Sub-Commander Saris, making him extremely nervous without saying a word.

"I have a feeling that wasn't a compliment," Geordi said, "but you are right, it _is_ pretty. And we're very happy with it," he said.

"It is too bright in here!" Korok observed, squinting under the lighting.

"Really?" LaForge shook his head. "Hadn't noticed." He glanced at Sub-Commander Saris, wondering if she appreciated his witty banter. Probably not, he decided.

"So as I was saying, the best thing about the holodeck, besides the presentation I am about to show you…is that you can create or re-create _any_ environment you desire." He looked up at Korok. "You can even create computer generated enemies to fight. I know Worf has quite a few programs for that," he said.

" _Ptagh_ …artificial enemies are for _artificial_ Klingons," said Korok, sounding disgusted. "Do I look artificial to you?"

Geordi shook his head. "I…uh…no I guess not."

"And what is the recreational purpose of this…holodeck?" Saris finally asked, looking at him probingly. He realized that she was substantially taller than him.

Geordi straightened. "Well, like I said, you can do anything you want on a holodeck, really," he said.

"But why would you want to?" She demanded. "Is your own life so dissatisfying, that you require artificial stimulation?"

Korok laughed. "A Romulan with a sense of humor? What next?"

"I do not have a sense of humor," she said flatly.

"Whatever you intended, you are correct," said Korok. "Humans are so controlled by their technology that they eat artificial foods as well," he growled as though thoroughly disgusted by this fact.

"Actually I find replicators to be quite ingenious," remarked Saris.

Geordi beamed at the compliment.

"Of course replicators _are_ a Romulan invention, and one that was clearly stolen by Humans and hardly improved upon."

Geordi was so outraged by this accusation that he forgot for a moment that he was so intimidated by his attraction to Saris. "What? Are you kidding me?"

"Did you not just hear me say that I lack a sense of humor? I am certainly not 'kidding', Mr. LaForge," Saris assured him. "The replicator was invented by Tarum, a _Romulan_ , in the year 2030."

LaForge shook his head again, as they reached the holodeck, but decided not to argue further with her. Was there such a thing as a Romulan who wasn't arrogant? He punched in a security code. He had a feeling what the Klingon and Romulan were about to see, would shut them both up, at least for a while. As the holodeck doors opened, he walked in ahead of them and then turned gesturing for them to enter. As the doors shut behind them Geordi opened his arms wide. "Welcome to the interior of a Borg cube…."

* * *

It was nearly nightfall by the time Pritchard was satisfied that they were far enough off the more well-traveled trails to evade Loomey's gang. Once they found a suitable site, they made camp near a stream where they both washed up. Pritchard extolled the importance of washing up downstream from where you drew your drinking water, and really she could not argue with his logic. In addition, she learned that neither one of them had the least bit of modesty when it came to bathing in front of each other. After they washed up, he explained the importance of boiling the water before drinking it to take care of any harmful microbes.

Boiling the water she knew required making a fire, something that she was not unfamiliar with, having made a fire for her ailing grandmother too many times to count. So while Pritchard watched her while drinking from a bottle of whiskey, she painstakingly built the fire. Of course she could have used her disruptor to ignite it instantly, but she had drawn enough attention to her situation already without adding to Pritchard's suspicions.

Pritchard was so delighted that she had made the fire that he set himself about making dinner out of some of the food items he had stolen from Loomey, and some he'd already had in his saddlebags. When he was done cooking something he called "chili" he handed her a bowl of it and then sat down across from her on the other side of the fire.

"Where're your people, Guinan? And I know they ain't in Louisiana," he added with a smirk, before beginning to eat quickly from his tin plate.

Her eyes widened slightly as she swallowed a mouthful of chili. Not this subject again. "My father is…a long ways away. And he and I don't get along very well," she said considering the subject closed.

Pritchard didn't seem surprised by this answer. "Hmmph. And your Ma?" He threw her the bottle of whiskey, which she caught deftly with her free hand.

Guinan took a sip of the whiskey. It burned her throat, but did not appear to have the same effect on her that it did on Pritchard. He was definitely loosening up. "I don't know where my mother is," she replied honestly. "To be honest, I stopped wondering years ago." She rolled the half empty bottle back to him.

"Hmmph," he said again with an expression that said he doubted her truthfulness. "You never forget your mother."

He took another swig of the whiskey and then wiped his mouth with a faraway expression. "My father was a full-blood Shawnee," he said. She couldn't tell from his voice if he considered that to be a good thing or not. She figured maybe he had been told long ago by someone that it wasn't. For some reason she felt a sadness he didn't seem capable of projecting himself. "Most people don't believe me since I was born in the 30's when they pushed the Indian tribes west of the Mississippi…they always ask how I stayed to grow up in Ohio." He shrugged. "A few of us stayed behind, but most of the tribes were forced to leave."

Guinan unfortunately knew nothing of what he was talking about. "What happened to your father?" she asked.

He spat onto the ground. "Murdered," he said simply. "So because my mother was a white, we stayed put. Didn't have to move to the reservation after all."

Guinan looked off into the distance. "I'm sorry about what happened to your father. It must have been difficult."

He lay back against the log. He took a long drink out of the bottle again. He burped loudly and then fell silent for a few minutes. "To tell the truth, for a long time I forgot about my Pa, probably like you forgot about your Ma…."

She finished her food and put the plate on the ground, feeling satisfied. Following his earlier example she let forth a loud burp. Pritchard looked at her in surprise and then started laughing loudly, which he continued for longer than she felt was really necessary. Eventually he quieted and stared off into the distance again. "So what made you remember him again?" She asked after a time. "Your father, I mean."

He cleared his throat and got up for a moment to poke the fire with a long stick. "It was my son," he said quietly, sitting back down on his haunches. "He looked just like my Pa." He broke into a slow smile. "Except for his red hair," he added.

 _Like his mother, no doubt_ , Guinan thought. She smiled, remembering what Pritchard had said about mentioning his wife. She wondered if it was still a deal-breaker, but decided not to risk mentioning it. "Where's your son? I would like to meet him some time," she ventured cautiously. She knew immediately that she had crossed a line, and his expression became unreadable.

He poked the stick into the ground absently. "You can't meet him. Not ever." Getting up suddenly he grabbed a bedroll for each of them and then tossed her one rather roughly. Without another word, he stretched out on the ground still holding the stick, and settled his head down on his other arm. When she felt herself drifting off, she could still see him staring into the fire.


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

 **The King...**

He had done it for his parents…so long ago he could hardly remember. He had done it all for them, but somehow now he understood as he looked back, that things had never really been in his control. Now he was ages old. And the Borg still existed, stronger than ever. He had failed his parents.

In the old world he would still be fairly young. But something about this world; something about the incessant killing and dying had aged him far beyond his one hundred and eleven years. He sat on the throne as he always did, staring out onto the battlefield, and waiting for someone to come and challenge him. He waited for someone to take his life, take away his pain, and take his place on the throne as the new king.

* * *

Beverly pulled on her lab coat. "I'm not due to go on shift for another hour. Do you have time for breakfast?" She asked hopefully.

Picard walked toward her. "No, I am afraid not," he answered reluctantly. "Just this," he said biting into an apple he had picked up from the table. "We're getting started rather early today, at Tomalak's request." As he munched the apple he stared at the floor distractedly. She could tell by his intense expression that he was thinking about possible strategies for the conference that day.

Beverly reached out to take his hand, and he shifted his attention back to her. "Jean Luc about last night..." she began hesitantly.

He looked embarrassed. "Yes...about that. I'm truly sorry Beverly."

She stared at him unsure if they were thinking the same thing.

"It seemed to be the right time, but then that _damned_ headache interfered." He smiled and squeezed her hand. "Sorry," he said again.

"Then you don't remember?"

His smile faded as he watched her. "I _remember_ we were in the middle of something quite wonderful and suddenly I had that horrible headache again." He paused. "And then after that I must have slept very soundly, because I don't remember a thing."

She tried to keep the sudden intensity of her feelings hidden, to no avail. "Oh", she said, and let go of his hand, barely conscious that she was backing away from him.

All of a sudden he felt his insides were a jumble. He stared at her with growing confusion. "Beverly why are you looking at me like that? Should remember something that I'm not?"

He walked toward her with an outstretched hand and she quickly put her hands in her pockets. "It's nothing," she said.

He stopped and dropped his hands to his sides, shaking his head. "I don't believe you," he said quietly. Why was she lying to him? What had he done? He was almost too afraid to ask her. "Please tell me..." She stayed silent. He watched her for a few moments more and the hurt on his face was apparent.

She tried to smile at him then but it was not sincere. "You're going to be late," she said.  
He shook his head again and backed away before walking out the door of his quarters.

* * *

"Captain, we think it is worth a try," said Riker. "Troi has assessed the risks." They had just explained to him the plan for establishing a mental link with him to aid in the negotiations, and generally, to help him to fight the Other. Riker had considered Guinan's objections just an hour ago, and they had decided to proceed anyway. Guinan had seemed to think that introducing someone close to Picard into the Other's world could be dangerous, although her explanation as to why was very vague.

"To yourself or to me?" Picard said coldly turning to the Counselor.

"To both of us, Captain," said Troi calmly. She hid her shock at his demeanor. The Captain's mind was not the solid rock of just days ago. Something was turning horribly wrong inside his mind. He was of more than one mind now, and the Picard of old who relied on reason and fairness had been replaced by someone or something brutish and cagey, mistrustful of her and even Riker. And this new personality was fighting for dominance of Picard and now it appeared might be winning.

Picard stood very still watching them both as though he were waiting for them to spring some kind of trap on him. "Whose idea was this?" he demanded.

Riker took a deep breath. "It was Admiral Nechayev's idea, sir. But I take responsibility…it was my call to make—"

"It was _not_ your damn call to make!" he shouted, slamming his hand onto his desk. He circled around his desk to glare at Riker. "You went behind my back and called that-that…." he broke off clutching his hands over his face almost desperately as though trying to force himself to regain his composure. Slowly he dropped his hands and a trickle of blood dribbled down his face. He didn't seem to notice this as he looked from Riker to Troi and back again. "I do not appreciate being undermined on board my own ship," he said with quite anger.

"Sir…everything we have done, we have tried to do in your best interest."

"Best interest…these are terms that are used when someone has lost their _mind_ , Commander," Picard accused. "Do you think I have lost my mind?"

Riker hesitated. "Sir I think that you—"

He walked toward Will. "You think you are capable of taking my command from me, Riker? No more sneaking around then…come and try to take it from me," he dared.

Troi stepped forward to address him. "Captain Picard. This is not you speaking. We know you are still with us," she said firmly.

He glared back at her, but gradually his expression grew more normal. He passed a hand over his eyes, looking down at the floor. "I-I'm sorry," he said. He looked up at them. "I don't know what came over me."

Troi stepped closer. Riker had the urge to reach out and stop her, but didn't. He could tell she was trying to bring the Captain back to their reality, and for the moment it was working. "Captain it was the Other. He is trying to convince you that we are trying to harm you. But he couldn't be more wrong, sir. We are with you," she reassured him.

Picard didn't look up but he nodded slightly. "I know," he said quietly. "But sometimes I look at you—all of you and all I see are enemies surrounding me."

"Captain, would you consider our earlier proposal? To allow me to establish a link with you subconsciously?"

A dark cloud seemed to pass over his eyes again and he backed away. "Not now," he said quickly. "Commander Riker and I have work to do," he said. He turned back to look at her. "But after the negotiations are through today…I will consider it."

* * *

"Captain it seems we have reached an impasse," said Tomalak. "Your unwillingness to be forthcoming is disappointing to say the least."

Picard leaned forward intensely. He could feel his composure beginning to crack. What was happening to him? Was there another person inside of him, threatening to emerge? If he let this personality out would he himself be buried? Would he disappear forever? He knew now that the Other was determined to drag him into his world and remake him as he saw fit. In the horrible alternative it seemed the Other would enter Picard's world bent on destroying all that was dear to him. Should he allow himself to be enveloped in the Other's world so that he could spare the world and people he loved? Either way, Picard was beginning to feel helpless to avoid ruin. Even Beverly it seemed no longer trusted him enough to tell him what had really happened the night before. And he could not even remember what he had done to upset her. He could hear Riker shift tensely at his side. Riker…could he still trust this man?

"I am waiting, Captain," said Tomalak.

"I don't know what you mean," Picard said.

Tomalak glared at him. "We have good intelligence that the Federation is building a trilithium weapon to use against the Borg."

Picard scoffed. "That is nonsense-your intelligence is faulty. There has been an intergalactic ban on such weapons for decades."

"And they've only been theoretical designs at that," Riker added.

 _Traitor…._ Picard looked down at the table to avoid looking at his First Officer. Thoughts of doubt continuously played in his head.

"Then what an opportune time to make those designs a reality, Commander," Tomalak retorted.

Chancellor K'mpec's body shook with laughter. "Ridiculous!"

Tomalak smiled craftily. "Don't sound so certain, Chancellor. We learned this from a Klingon agent of ours."

"A _Klingon_!" K'mpec leapt to his feet with his hand on his disruptor. "No Klingon would betray his people to a _Romulan!"_

"Really," said Tomalak, sounding unimpressed. "You may want to examine your inner circle more closely, Chancellor."

K'mpec's eyes bulged grotesquely. Fuming, he pushed past his own guards angrily and stomped from the room. Confused, the guards followed him out noisily.

* * *

Tomalak folded his hands before him in the table almost serenely. "Now Captain, may we have a moment alone without your First Officer, or do you require his _assistance_ …."

Picard's mouth flattened into a thin line. "Please excuse us, Commander," he said, not looking at Riker.

"But sir—"

"That is an _order_ ," he snapped, keeping his eyes fixed on the table. Riker stood up, staring down at Picard for another tense moment before exiting the room.

Tomalak smiled at Picard, who glared through him. "Captain, I am pleased to have a moment alone. Because now we can truly speak with honesty."

"Meaning you were lying about the trilithium weapon after all," said Picard flatly.

"Partly," admitted Tomalak. "Because we have no knowledge of such a weapon…but we do have a Klingon operative."

"You said all of that just to clear the room?" Picard asked, appalled. "I should think you would want to keep the identity of your operative secret," he said.

"He has…outlived his usefulness," said Tomalak. "Besides, the Chancellor is so paranoid that he is being poisoned he will execute everyone in his inner circle indiscriminately just based on my suggestions."

Picard stood up quickly. In his mind he pictured himself strangling the Romulan, but kept his palms flat on the table in front of him. "What do you want?"

Tomalak stood up with a smooth smile and began to pace the room, circling around in back of the Captain. Picard straightened, but didn't turn around. He closed his eyes briefly and imagined throwing Tomalak through the wall.

"Captain, if I may make a personal observation, you are clearly _unwell_. In fact, you have quickly lost control of these negotiations. Your antics at the dinner last night were most revealing. I must say that I was surprised to encounter you in such a state of mind, having heard so many things about your impressive control and presence. On Romulus there are some who even compare your control to that of a Vulcan—which believe me is not always intended as an insult."

Picard looked down at the table and clenched his fists. "Just tell me what you want," he demanded.

Tomalak put his hands behind his back and walked to a corner of the room, facing the wall. "It wasn't until I learned you were under the influence of an alien force, that I decided to broach this subject to you…perhaps it was your vulnerability that caused me to have such pity for you." He turned to regard Picard with a curious smile.

Picard's head whipped up to glare at the Romulan. "What did you say? What _alien_ force?" His eyes narrowed with suspicion.

Tomalak's smile widened. "Why Commander Riker told me following the dinner that you are being influenced by an alien force. What a troubling and unfortunate _affliction_."

Picard felt a cold fury enter his soul. Riker had betrayed him again. How could he reveal such a thing to someone as treacherous as this Romulan? He was surrounded by traitors.

Tomalak hesitated ever so slightly as he watched a thin cloud of black crawl over Captain Picard's eyes and then disappear again. "We Romulans have a fearsome weapon, Picard. And we are planning to use it against the Borg—in fact it was developed just for them. To wipe them from the universe as though they never existed. Are you interested?"

 _The Borg_. The words echoed through his brain. Picard stared through the Romulan commander. "Why are you telling me this?"

Tomalak walked back toward him. "It's a virus, both synthetic and organic."

"If your weapon is so powerful, why do you even need to tell me?" _A weapon to destroy the Borg_ , the voice whispered to him.

"Perhaps it is not complete," admitted Tomalak. "Perhaps we would like to develop it further." Picard said nothing. "We are willing to share the weapon with the Federation, Picard."

Picard laughed and shook his head. He was having trouble concentrating on Tomalak's strange proposal. _Destroy the Borg_. Was it even real? He was having trouble determining who was a friend and who was an enemy. "What's the catch?"

"The Klingons…you must break the alliance you have with them," said Tomalak.

Picard blinked, as doubt crept into his brain. "Alliance?" he echoed. _There is no alliance_ , said the voice. _You lead the one army, Picard. My army._

Picard's mind was swimming. He had to leave, had to get away. He heard the words come out of his mouth as though they were spoken by someone far away. "We'll reconvene tomorrow," he said weakly, before quickly leaving.

* * *

"Beverly," said Deanna gently. "I don't want you to think I am criticizing you, but why didn't you tell him what happened last night?"

They sat in Counselor Troi's office. Beverly twisted her hands in front of her with a look of anguish on her face. "I don't know," she said honestly.

"Are you angry with him?"

"No," said Beverly.

"So you don't regret that it happened?"

"Yes of course I regret it," Beverly said quickly.

"Why? Was it something you did not want to happen?"

Beverly closed her eyes and shook her head. "No it's not like that at all. At the time, yes, I did want it to happen. I wanted him."

"But now?"

"Now… I think that it wasn't him there with me at all. It was someone else—as though they were acting through him—using his body. And I almost can't bear to think of it."

Deanna leaned forward and held her friend's hands in hers. "Beverly, I am glad you are telling me this." She paused. "And I can tell that you feel guilty about not telling Captain Picard. But it is important to think of yourself too, and how you feel about what happened."

"Thank you Deanna, but I'm alright. I just feel as though I should have trusted him enough to tell him this morning."

Deanna squeezed Beverly's hands. "I think you are being too hard on yourself in this situation. This has been such a trying time for you."

The truth was she had been afraid of hurting him. Beverly sighed and tried to sit up straighter. "What do you think happened—I mean, what did it mean?"

Troi tried to smile comfortingly. "I think that you were both used…used by the Other. He was trying to draw Captain Picard back into his world. So I believe that whatever happened between you last night, was part of that. But I also believe that part of him might have been present there with you."

Beverly looked at Troi with a tired but hopeful expression. "I really hope he was, Deanna. I hope that's true."

* * *

Picard waited until they had materialized in transporter room one. Riker had tried to speak to him twice prior to transport, but he hadn't given the traitor the satisfaction of answering him. And when he stepped down off the transporter pad once on the Enterprise, Riker had reached his hand out toward Picard. Riker didn't see the first punch coming, and it hit him squarely in the throat. Riker staggered backward wheezing, grasping for his throat. He was too strong for Riker now, too strong for any of them.

But he didn't see O'Brien come from the side, and felt the stun beam several times before it knocked him to one knee. The next shot was more intense and flattened him to the ground. But it didn't matter, for he would get up again, and they would be sorry they betrayed him.


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

* * *

Will Riker was in agony, and even more frightening was that he could not breathe.

Over the painful wheezing of his throat, the only thing he could hear was Doctor Crusher's voice. "We need to stabilize his breathing," she said to a nurse nearby. Riker felt his throat contract involuntarily.

"Put an oxygen mix in that analgesic hypo before you inject it," she ordered one of her subordinates sharply. He felt her hand on his shoulder firmly, and then she moved it away again quickly. Her complete control under pressure would have been comforting had he not been in excruciating pain. Gradually he felt his body warming and relaxing involuntarily reacting to the sensation of the painkillers.

"Give him more," Crusher said, twisting a nearby tube with her fingertips. His vision blurred and the air in the room seemed colder as the blood rushed in his ears.

Crusher leaned over him. "Will…" His eyes rolled to look up in her general direction. "Will, your upper windpipe has been crushed and we need to do surgery immediately. But you are going to be fine. You are going to go to sleep in 3, 2, 1…."

* * *

LaForge watched Sub-Commander Saris carefully studying a triangular communications node above their heads. She used an instrument resembling a sleeker version of the tricorder to capture the details of the node. Captain Picard had permitted the visiting officers to record anything they liked inside the holodeck simulation.

"You never told me what happened to Bochra," said Geordi, leaning on a railing, as a simulated Borg drone walked stiffly past them.

Saris turned to look at him stoically. "And I never will," she said. "It is none of your concern."

Geordi looked down. "Look…maybe Bochra and I weren't exactly the best of friends, but like I told you down on Kronos—"

"You had a bond," Saris said flatly. "Yes, I heard you. You are a very sentimental human being," she observed.

Geordi bristled and straightened. "Is that supposed to be an _insult_? So… I'm less perfect than you because I have feelings?"

Saris shrugged. "No. You are less perfect than me because I am Romulan and you are Human."

Geordi looked down again, now clearly angry. "That's a completely bigoted way of thinking, Saris."

"Perhaps," she acknowledged. "But it is the way that we Romulans are raised to view other species."

"That's like saying you have no responsibility for how you turn out as an adult Romulan, Saris. It's blaming your narrow-mindedness on everyone but yourself."

She stared at him blankly and then returned to viewing her instrument. Geordi swore under his breath and turned away looking over the railing into simulated darkness. Then he murmured to himself in a low voice.

"You cannot believe you were ever attracted to me," she said with a slightly self-satisfied tone of voice. "How interesting."

Geordi turned to stare at her in astonishment.

"I have exceptional hearing," said Saris.

Geordi shook his head. "Whatever," he said, both embarrassed and annoyed.

She turned to him then and closed her recording instrument. To his surprise she began to laugh. It sounded natural, but coming from her it sounded a bit sinister, so he didn't know what to think. But there was something about the way her heat index changed from ice cold to warmer that made him wonder what she was up to.

Saris suddenly stopped laughing. "Mr. LaForge…."

"What?" he looked at her expectantly. Was she almost done? As soon as they finished this, he could be on his way and forget about her smug, condescending and beautiful face.

"Have you ever had sex with a Romulan?"

Geordi's jaw dropped slightly. "Um…wow. No," he admitted. "Look, Saris, if you were trying to throw me off, it worked."

She smiled. "It was simply a question," she said. It had never been far from her mind that her commanding officer had ordered her to gain LaForge's attentions. She had not expected her task to be so easy, however. She walked toward him slowly, and he stepped back against the railing.

Alarm bells rang inside his head. Was she going to try and push him over the railing? Holodeck safety protocols wouldn't allow him to be killed, but still he shouldn't trust her, should he?

"Kind of an odd question don't you think?" he shot back. "I mean a few minutes ago you were telling me how I was less of a person than you. You don't even like me!"

She stood close to him now. "If I did like you, Mr. LaForge, do you think you would even be able to recognize it?"

"Well, my instincts for judging the feelings of Human women haven't exactly been honed to perfection," Geordi admitted. "So I couldn't do much worse with a Romulan woman…er…lady, I mean, such as you." He shook off his nerves in irritation. "So yes-yes I think I would be able to tell."

She held out her hand with her palm facing up. Geordi hesitated before putting his hand in hers. She grasped his hand and brought it up to her face, and slowly traced his fingers across her cheekbone and down over her lips. His breath caught in his throat, and he felt her react by smiling under his fingertips. She let go of his hand and he dropped it to his side, feeling his face flush with warmth. "So," she said. "Tell me, do I like you?"

LaForge swallowed awkwardly. "I'm going to take a chance and say yes," he said.

"How brave of you," she replied leaning in to kiss him. With the railing behind him there was nowhere to go but down, and if he was honest with himself at that moment, he felt anything but safe. So when he heard the explosion come from several levels below them, it was almost to be expected.

* * *

The emergency surgery successfully complete, Beverly Crusher checked again to make sure her patient was stable. Riker would be unconscious and resting for several hours, but he would be alright. Smiling faintly she nodded to one of the nurses who was cleaning up the surgical area. She took off her surgical smock and draped it over her shoulder as she walked slowly back into main sick bay.

To her surprise, Lt. Worf was there to meet her with his usual stern expression. "Lt. Commander Data sent me…what is Commander Riker's status, Doctor?"

She returned his gaze tiredly and leaned back against the door frame outside her office. She looked down at her hands. "His trachea was crushed and I had to reconstruct the upper section. He almost died. But eventually he will recover…fully." She sighed. "For now he needs rest."

She yawned, covering her mouth. "Now I would like to know, _how_ did this happen? I thought Commander Riker was with Captain Picard down on Kronos, and then just like that he was beamed into my sick bay, fighting for his life. Who attacked him Lt.?"

Worf paused and seemed at a loss for words.

Beverly folded her arms over her chest, alerted by Worf's hesitation. "I expected to see Captain Picard here. Is he still down on Kronos?" she questioned.

Worf straightened suddenly looking highly uncomfortable. "Captain Picard is in the brig."

" _What_?" Beverly dropped her blue coat on the deck and walked swiftly toward Worf. "What are you talking about?" Immediately she was determined to go to him, but Worf moved into her path. She glared up at him. "Either get out of my way, or tell me what the hell is going on, Worf!"

Worf for his part remained calm. "Doctor, Captain Picard and Commander Riker unexpectedly transported back from the negotiations early today. Contrary to protocol I was not notified of their return and was at my post on the bridge."

Crusher tapped her foot in irritation. "And?"

"And there was an incident. Captain Picard attacked the Commander, causing the injury you just repaired."

She covered her mouth with her hands and closed her eyes. As soon as he said it, she knew it was true. Everything had been leading up to this kind of event. She shook her head. "Is he alright?" she asked quietly, looking up at him again.

Worf looked at her with sympathy. "I do not know."

* * *

 **Several minutes earlier on the holodeck…**

Commander Korok fell back, and watched the human Engineer and the Romulan officer walk ahead of him engaged in an endlessly boring conversation about Borg propulsion systems. The holodeck was quite realistic, but the incessant talking of the engineer as he tried to impress the arrogant Romulan woman took away from the lifeless and gloomy interior of the Borg ship. His communicator beeped and shrinking back into the shadows even further, he brought his wrist up to his ear.

" _Korok…."_

Korok's eyes narrowed. Only one person should be contacting him on this channel. "'Lv ghaH 'oH?" {"Who is this?"}

He could only hear growling on the other end of the connection.

"NuqneH?" {"What do you want?"} Korok demanded, and considered hanging up.

" _Daq legh Lij maghta' Qaw' SoH je quvHa' Lij puqpu'." {"To see your betrayal destroy you and dishonor your children_ ,"} the voice growled.

"Huh?"

" _Ghorgh Lij Hegh choltaH DichDaq SoH Haw' joq Suv?" {"When your death comes today, will you flee or fight?"}_

Korok snarled into his communicator. "Suv! Heghlu' meH QaQ javjam!" {"Fight! Today is a good day to die!"}

Korok spun around as the connection cut, and part of him believed that the Chancellor's men would be standing there surrounding him, waiting to kill him. But no one was there, and he was still inside the holodeck program. Running and leaping down to several catwalks below him, he turned and searched for the doorway they had entered.

Where was the damned door? "LojmIt yIpoSmoH!" {"Open the door!"} Korok shouted. Nothing. He tried repeating it in Human English and the holodeck door appeared and opened revealing the corridor. A thought occurred to him then. Why leave? Let them try to find him in here! He had already dishonored himself by spying for the Romulans anyway, so why stop now?

His mind raced. He activated his communicator again. " _Tomalak!_ _Tomalak!"_ he whispered furiously into his wrist band. Curse that bastard Romulan for exposing him! He stepped back in and grabbed his disruptor, and after the door closed he fired at the control panel. A smoking hole had now replaced the panel, and the door flickered and then disappeared. "Open the door," he ordered again. But the computer was unresponsive this time, and the door remained invisible and closed.

* * *

Data sat very still in the captain's chair on the bridge. The last few hours had been quite unexpected, the most prominent events having been that Commander Riker was in emergency surgery, Captain Picard was in custody, and he was now in command of the Enterprise.

"Commander, we are reading a malfunction in Holodeck One," reported the science officer posted at the station behind tactical.

Holodeck One was where Geordi LaForge was running his Borg cube program. Romulan Sub-Commander Saris and Klingon Commander Korok should still be with him. "Deploy a technical team to commence repairs." He hit his communicator. "Data to Ensign Crusher."

"Crusher here," came the teen's eager voice.

"Wesley, please report to Holodeck One to assist with repairs. And keep me apprised of your progress."

"Sure Data-I mean aye sir."

Data opened the control panel on the chair's armrest and frowned. The holodeck should not be malfunctioning at all, but a tiny schematic on his screen showed a growing red patch in the control area, indicating that an incendiary device had caused significant damage. He tapped his communicator once more. "Data to LaForge."

There was some static, but LaForge answered. "LaForge here. What's going on Data?" It occurred to Data that there were a number of things that were "going on" that LaForge, having been in the holodeck for several hours, was probably unaware of. Still he thought it prudent only to mention the events most pertinent to Geordi.

"There appears to be a malfunction in Holodeck One. Specifically it appears that there was an explosion of some kind in or near the control panel."

"Yeah we heard a blast a minute ago, and then went looking for Commander Korok. We lost track of him somehow."

"Are you carrying a sidearm?" Data asked.

"Yes…Captain Picard had ordered me to. At the time I thought it was kind of strange, but now I'm glad he did." There was a pause. "I see what you mean, Data, the computer in here is unresponsive—it's not even showing the exit."

"Geordi, proceed with extreme caution and take all steps to exit the holodeck," Data ordered. The connection fizzled out again and he looked up sharply at a beeping at the front of the bridge.

Geordi's voice was tense when he came back on. "Saris, what was that?" The connection filled with static. "Hey—"

"Connection has been lost, Commander," said the tactical officer.

"Lock on to Commander LaForge and Sub-Commander Saris and beam them into the main conference room," ordered Data.

The tactical officer slammed her hand onto the console. "Sir, I can't establish a lock on them. It's no good!"

Data stood up and turned to look at the agitated young woman. "Please calm your emotions, Lieutenant. Striking the console in anger is extremely counterproductive."

"Aye sir," she said reddening.

"Sir, Chancellor K'mpec's security chief is hailing us."

Data raised an eyebrow at the officer posted at ops. Another unexpected development. "On screen."

An angry Klingon with bushy eyebrows appeared on the view screen suddenly, and wasted no time getting to the point. "We demand to board your vessel," he growled.

Data calmly laced his fingers together over his abdomen. "Perhaps it would be more useful to disclose your motivation for boarding the Enterprise before demanding to do so."

"Where is Picard?" the Klingon demanded.

"Captain Picard is not available to speak with you. I am Commander Data, and I am currently in command of the Enterprise. And I assume that you are Commander Targ?"

"You assume correctly…android. We must come aboard," he repeated.

"Why?" asked Data.

"A Klingon visitor on board your ship has just been given a death sentence. He must be captured so that he may be executed."

"Commander Targ, Starfleet does not permit executions to take place on board its vessels."

"We do not wish to execute him _on board_ your ship, but we do intend to take him into custody."

Data blinked quickly. "Article II, paragraph 5 of the Treaty of Alliance states that the Federation shall not interfere with the internal affairs of the Klingon Empire and vice versa, unless one or all of the diplomatic terms of Article III have been met," said Data.

Commander Targ slammed his fist down on his desk and looked as though he intended to come through the view screen. "You quote rules and regulations to me? My father helped _negotiate_ that treaty!"

"With all due respect, Commander Targ, your family history has little relevance when it comes to an accurate interpretation of the Federation-Klingon Alliance."

"It is the _Klingon_ -Federation Alliance," shouted Targ.

Data tilted his head. "Despite rearranging the order of the words Klingon and Federation, you have not convinced me that I am either required or authorized under the Treaty to comply with your demands."

"I will not engage in semantics with a _machine_ ," Targ snarled angrily.

"I prefer the term synthetic life form," said Data.

" _Kahpf_! You have two hours to deliver the criminal spy Korok to my custody, or your failure to cooperate with Chancellor K'mpec will be _duly_ noted."

No sooner had the image of Targ faded, before the communications station beeped again. The woman at ops turned halfway to look at Data in the command center. Her expression was one of unconcealed surprise. "Commander, we are being hailed by the Romulan vessel."

Data nodded to her and instantly Tomalak's smug expression filled the forward view screen.

"Mr. Data," said Tomalak, fixing him with a piercing gaze. "I must speak with Captain Picard."

"Commander Tomalak, I am afraid that Captain Picard is currently unavailable," said Data. "Perhaps I may be of assistance," he added.

Tomalak steepled his hands in front of him as though contemplating Data's offer. "Mr. Data, perhaps you _can_ be of assistance…please relay a message to Captain Picard for me. I certainly hope that he is _well_. He has seemed of late to be…ailing." He paused and smiled. "I would like him to know that the offer I made him is still open…but time is running short. I would also like Captain Picard to consider whether he wants to be known as the captain who let such a powerful opportunity slip through his fingertips."

Data tilted his head curiously. "You do not wish to elaborate further?"

Tomalak tilted his head, mirroring Data. "No. Good day, Mr. Data." The screen went black.


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

"Commander Data, I need to speak with you immediately," said Troi, walking quickly on to the bridge.

Data turned to look at her. "Ah, Counselor. Please let me finish reviewing this report and I will soon be available—"

"I'm sorry, Data, but this cannot wait," she insisted, walking toward the ready room. She turned back to regard him with an expectant gaze.

Correctly reading this cue, Data pushed himself up out of the seat and followed her inside Picard's office. "Yes, Counselor?"

Even Data could tell that Troi's demeanor was unusually tense. "Data, do you even realize what is happening on this ship right now?"

Data paused. There were several hundred thousand things happening on board the ship at that moment. Several of those things were serious, but he was unsure of the correct response. "I am not certain that I understand the question, Counselor," he replied. "But if you are speaking of Captain Picard…."

"I am Data, but it is much more than just Captain Picard now. He is just the catalyst for a level of collective hostility I have never before witnessed on board this ship. The majority of the junior officers on this ship are on the verge of attacking each other. The desire to harm and even kill is palpable, Data, and not something this crew should be experiencing or emoting."

"I agree, Counselor," said Data seriously. "What do you suggest?"

"We've got to somehow neutralize the effect that Captain Picard is having on these crewmembers."

"Captain Picard is currently in the detention block, Counselor. He is no threat—"

"No, you're wrong, Data. His very presence incites these officers to want to kill for him. And if they are not unconvinced of this desire, and very soon—I fear the worst. And I have to add, Data…many of these officers are not happy that you are in command now. They believe that you have betrayed the Captain. If they are not already planning a mutiny, they will be soon."

"That is quite concerning, Counselor. What is your recommendation"

"You've got to let me try to reach him, Data. If I can somehow cut him off at least from the others, we could bring at least some of them back to their senses and regain sanity on this ship."

"Counselor Troi, I am concerned for your welfare. You cannot be certain that you will be able to maintain control over the Captain, and in fact you may be harmed yourself."

"Data, you have to let me try."

* * *

"Do not approach too closely, Doctor," warned Worf.

Jean-Luc lay face up on a bench inside the detention cell with energy restraints around his wrists and ankles. His eyes were closed, but she could not tell if he was conscious or not. Beverly turned back in barely contained outrage glaring at Worf and the other security personnel. "He's not even awake, and you've got him bound like some kind of criminal?"

Worf stared forward into the cell, not meeting her gaze. "Doctor, he is extremely dangerous," he assured her.

"But there's an energy field in place…" she said, trailing off. "Drop the field for just a few minutes. Let me try and get through to him," she blurted out suddenly, grabbing Worf by the arm.

Worf shook his head, but he pulled over a chair for her to sit down. "Perhaps you would like to sit here, Doctor. But I am unable to remove the field. We cannot ensure your safety."

Frustrated, Beverly accepted the offer of a chair and sat down. She leaned forward with her elbows resting on her knees while she watched him. He looked almost peaceful, and she remembered how she had refused to take his hand earlier in the day when they were in his quarters. And now she had lost the opportunity to touch him at all. She knew that he had nearly killed Riker. But it wasn't something he had control over anymore. Did that mean he would try and kill her too?

As if he was listening to her thoughts he suddenly sat up and swung his legs over the bench, placing his feet squarely on the ground. His eyes, now open, were no longer hazel, but inky black. A shock of fear went through her. Then before her eyes his body seemed to shimmer and phase out of existence briefly before returning to normal. He got to his feet and walked to the energy field. "Let me out," he said loudly, to no one in particular. Did he even see her or anyone else outside the cell for that matter? Maybe he could only see those creatures he was fighting inside the Other's world.

"I am afraid I cannot let you out, Captain," said Worf.

"I must reach the Old King, and if I don't then you are to blame. Master, I am surrounded by so many traitors," he said sounding forlorn.

"Jean-Luc," Beverly ventured. "It's me, Beverly. Can you hear me?"

He reached toward the energy field. "This barrier cannot keep me from my goal. My goal is paramount. Nothing else matters anymore."

"Jean-Luc, don't touch the field. You're going to hurt yourself. No one wants to hurt you…we only want to help you."

He blinked a few times and his eyes returned to normal. "Beverly? What happened? Where am I?"

She walked forward, shaking Worf's restraining hand off her shoulder. "You're here safe with me, Jean-Luc. I won't let anything happen to you," she said.

He lowered his head to stare at the floor, and his expression was immensely sad. "I—I can't…." Suddenly his body phased away again and in his place was a man resembling him, but much taller with a tattooed body. It was the man she had seen in her dream. The man he was transforming into. The man emitted a low laugh and then raised his head to stare at them with a frightening gaze, raising his bound hands he slammed his fists into the energy field, grunting as it threw him backward. Beverly watched in horror, while Worf held onto her shoulders.

The tattooed warrior slammed his fists into the energy field again and again until he was too fatigued to stand upright. He staggered around the cell, looking confused and angry and then then fell to one knee before collapsing backward and hitting his head on the bench. At that point, the strange shimmer occurred again, and the warrior's body disappeared. Now Picard's limp body lay half on the bench and half on the floor. He was still conscious, and his body began to shake. He brought his bound wrists up in an attempt to cover his face as he cried.

* * *

Pritchard refused to talk to her for four whole days after she asked him about his son. Guinan was used to solitude, so at first she had no problem with this. They made camp and scrounged for food every night, and still Pritchard said nothing. He drank plenty of whiskey though. After a week of spending nights outside, it suddenly grew cold one night, and the wind whistled through the trees and low hills.

Out of self-preservation, they huddled close together next to the fire. To Guinan's surprise, Pritchard pulled a blue padded coat out of his saddle bags and draped it around her shoulders. It smelled musty, but she examined it with interest, grateful for the extra warmth. It was dark blue with gold piping around the wrists and down the front. Round fasteners she had come to learn were called buttons trailed down the front of the coat. She pulled it around her shoulders. "Thank you," she said.

She felt him shrug as he leaned against her. "Fall's approaching," he said. "That's why the wind is nippin' at us tonight, Guinan. I wonder if you will reconsider your journey, once it gets a bit colder." He laughed and took a drink of water from his flask.

She looked at him in surprise. "I was beginning to think you had stopped talking permanently."

He laughed again, now taking a swig from the whiskey bottle. "Ha! Me? No, I was just thinking. I don't like to talk when I'm thinking."

"For four days, you were deep in thought," she said sarcastically. "Do share."

He shook his head and leaned against her again. "I don't think so," he said quietly.

She ran a hand down the length of the coat, and snagged her finger. "Did you know there's a hole in this coat?"

"I sure do," he said quietly. "Hard to forget a bullet hole such as that one," he remarked.

She turned to look at him. "You were shot?"

He made a whistling sound, and poked himself in his lower side. "Went clean through my side just above my hip. Lucky it missed my guts."

"When was this?"

"The War," he said as though she were crazy. "I already told you that. Maybe…'64. After that I retired. I thought I had seen enough death and destruction to last a lifetime." He shoved the heel of his boot into the fine rocks at his feet. "But unfortunately I've seen more since then. And believe me, I ain't looking for it." He sighed. "Some things never seem to change."

He got up to poked the fire, and made a sweeping gesture in the air with the stick, which to her seemed more elegant than she would have given him credit for. "We were charging and I was holding the sword up like this…" he whistled again. "Bullet struck me clean through. If I hadn't held onto the horse, I would have been trampled or killed there in the mud by a bayonet."

"But you survived," she said.

"Sure," he said grinning. He pointed the stick at her playfully. "You know you make a sharp lookin' captain in that coat. Not as sharp as I was though, surely…." he laughed and sat back down beside her.

She took a bite of an apple, and chewed it slowly while they sat in silence for a few more minutes. "So it's been almost twenty years since you retired as a young man Pritchard. During that time have you _only_ experienced more death and destruction, or have you had any happiness?"

He took off his hat and lay down placing it on his chest. "Yes, I have been happy," he admitted softly looking up at the sky, obviously remembering. "I was gloriously happy once."

She smiled and stretched out her legs. "Really? I don't believe you…."

He made a face at her and then lifted up on one elbow. "Do you have any idea what true love is? If you do, then you know what happiness is like."

She huddled in the jacket. "Let's say I do, Pritchard. Are you saying you were in love once?"

He laid back down and gazed up at the stars. "I don't even know where she came from," he said, his voice a near whisper. "One day she appeared and from the start I loved her, and she loved me. Just like that, no questions asked. She was the most beautiful person I ever knew. And the smartest. She never let me get away with a thing! Oh she had a temper, but the next minute she would comfort me in ways no one else could do."

Guinan smiled and looked down at the ground, hugging her knees. "It sounds like fate to me…like you were destined to be together."

He picked up his hat and then dropped it over his face. His voice was thick with emotion. "Do you think…do you think if I believe that, that we were meant to be together, that she'll come back to me?"

* * *

Guinan sat in her quarters on the Enterprise feeling as unsettled as she ever had during her long life. Her friend was disappearing in front of her eyes it seemed. She had to find a way to save him before the changes in him became permanent. She lit a traditional candle and sat contemplating the dilemma with Picard. "Who is the Old King?" she asked out loud. She had been asking the same question for days now, but this time she asked the question to Orla. She had not spoken to Orla in years, and had felt betrayed by the supernatural being so often that she had not wanted to. Once long ago, she had seen Orla as a perfect, infallible deity. But now she knew better, and she hesitated even to ask for Orla's assistance.

"Who is the Old King?" she asked again.

A shimmering purple shape appeared before her. _"Guinan, you already know the answer to this question. But you must face your past to bring the truth to the present and save your friend."_

"Why has my friend been made to suffer like this?" Guinan asked.

 _"_ _The reason does not matter,"_ said Orla.

"Why not?" Guinan demanded.

Orla laughed and the purple image shimmered again. _"The only thing that matters now is finding the solution."_

"Which is what?"

 _"_ _Remember the boy_ ," urged Orla. " _And then you will come to understand that to save your friend Picard, you must save the Old King as well."_

Guinan nodded, slowly beginning to understand.

" _Once you have saved the Old King, bring Picard to me, and I will save him. Guinan, I love you my child,"_ said Orla.

"I love you too, Mother," she replied, uttering words she had not said in ages.


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

"Counselor Troi," said Data into his communicator. "What is your progress?"

 _"_ _Data, I am going to attempt to establish contact with Captain Picard,"_ came Troi's reply.

"Is Doctor Crusher present to monitor your vital signs?"

 _"_ _I'm here, Data,"_ was Crusher's reply.

"As agreed, neither of you are to cross the energy barrier in Captain Picard's cell," said Data.

"Understood," said Troi. "My hope is that I won't need to touch him physically to connect with him."

"Very well, please proceed," said Data.

* * *

 **South Dakota, late summer 1881**

It was much warmer the next day, and they slowed their pace to give the horses some much needed rest. Pritchard, again deep in thought was quiet for most of the day. As the afternoon wore on she periodically would glance over at him and find him gazing at her curiously.

Finally, somewhat annoyed she turned to him sharply. "What?"

He shrugged and gave her a strange smile. "We're making good time, and as long as we don't run into trouble...we should reach your destination soon enough-'bout a week or so..."

She stared at him. "And? So?"

"And I'm just wondering what exactly it is you expect to find up in those hills."

"Telling you exactly what I'm looking for wasn't part of our deal, Pritchard," she reminded him.

He shrugged again and stared ahead into the distance. "Oh…well, Suit yourself," he said easily. "I'll figure it out, whether you tell me or not," he added.

"I highly doubt that," she said.

He squinted at her in the sunlight. "You think I'm dumb, huh?"

"Of course not," she scoffed.

"Well, I may know more about you than you guess," he said again with a curious expression on his face. She recalled a similar expression on his face when he had watched her talking to the Ulysses the horse in El-Aurian, and how somehow he had seemed to understand, or at least recognize the language she used.

She pulled at the reigns, slowing Peaches to a stop. "Whoa," she said patting the horse on her muscular neck. She turned to look at Pritchard. "Go ahead Pritchard…what exactly do you think you know about me?"

He laughed, but something in his eyes seemed almost fearful as he watched her. "I've known many black folk in my years, and you ain't like any I've encountered…"

She was unable to prevent herself from giving him a superior look. "Is that what you think I am, Pritchard? 'Black folk'? Tell me…what does that even mean?"

His smiled faded and he looked down looking almost ashamed. "Alright…well you ain't like any _person_ I've ever met…except one that is."

"Who?"

He cleared his throat and looked away. "I've heard that little lullaby you were singing to Ulysses. I've heard it before… because my wife used to sing it to our son."

Guinan's blood seemed to pause momentarily before running through her veins again. "What do you mean?"

"I _mean_ , that I know you ain't from Louisiana."

* * *

Beverly Crusher laid a supportive hand on Deanna Troi's shoulder before stepping to the side. Worf stood nearby silently. She couldn't tell if he was skeptical of Troi's ability to reach the Captain, but at least he remained nearby. Right now she would take any comfort available, however slight.

Troi sat in a chair facing Captain Picard, who lay on the floor inside his cell with his back to them. He was very still, and Beverly had to struggle to retain her composure. She knew why Data had ordered them not to lower the energy barrier to the cell. But even if Jean-Luc hadn't been her dear friend…even if she hadn't been in love with him, she would have struggled, because it was her duty to aid those were ill. And Jean-Luc was very ill. And it seemed there was nothing she could do to help him. Nothing except wait.

Deanna settled back in the chair and closed her eyes. She would attempt to bridge a gap that existed between her mind and that of Picard. And if she succeeded, what would she find? One moment there was nothing, only blackness, and then suddenly she saw in front of her a large chasm. On the other side was Picard, standing head bowed and listless. He was prepared to walk into the chasm; to disappear into it. She called him by name, and to her surprise he looked up. But he was so far away.

Suddenly a dark and immense hooded figure rose from the chasm. His arms were outstretched cradling a black globe in his hands. She watched him mesmerized, and heard a whisper that seemed ancient emerge from the dark faceless hood.

Suddenly the figure was in front of her. _"You dare to enter my world? Did you consider when you chose to come here that you would never be permitted to leave?"_

Troi opened her mouth but she could not speak. A strange black wisp of smoke emerged from the globe and entered her lips and nose. The hooded figure began to laugh in a booming voice from which there was no escape. He reached out a huge three-fingered hand and lowered it over her head. " _You have a strong mind…you may be of use to me,"_ boomed the voice.

Crusher's tricorder was beeping incessantly. Worf glanced at her. "What is happening?"

"Troi's heart rate is erratic and her brainwave activity is off the charts," said Crusher, tapping her tricorder.

"And Captain Picard?" asked Worf.

Crusher licked her lips tensely, glancing at the still form of Picard briefly. "No change from before."

Troi suddenly cried out and then fell to the floor with her limbs jerking, before her eyes rolled up in her head and she grew still. Crusher fell to her knees, doing what she could to revive her friend. "She's unconscious," she said. "I have to get her to sick bay."

" _Ptagh_!" shouted Worf suddenly. Instinctively Beverly looked up again at the cell, as Worf rushed toward the barrier and lowered it. She got to her feet slowly. Jean-Luc was gone. She turned way as though the world had slowed down, and when she looked up again with tears in her eyes she saw that Guinan stood in the doorway.

Beverly erupted with anger. " _Well_? Don't just _stand_ there! You see he's gone now," she said flinging her arm toward the detention cell. "And now Deanna's unresponsive. Do you know what to do or not, Guinan? Now what?"

Guinan stared past her at the empty cell. "Now, we fight back," she said simply.

* * *

Geordi LaForge and Sub-Commander Saris had found themselves investigating an explosion on Holodeck One, and at the same time investigating the disappearance of Commander Korok. Somehow Geordi, though not by nature a suspicious person, knew these two events were not coincidental. Data contacting him had been an additional distraction. And now discovering that the explosion had caused a malfunction on the holodeck—specifically that they could not exit the holodeck or end the program—caused Geordi's spirits to plummet even further. The static-filled connection with Data continued to fade, when both he and Saris turned at the sound of a low shuffle. "Saris, what was that?" he questioned, feeling the hair on his forearms perk up. "Hey!" A form moved quickly away from them in the shadows.

Geordi pulled his phaser and started in the direction of the moving figure. Saris grabbed his bicep and her vice-like grip. She was much stronger than he was. He turned to look at her.

"Do not be a fool…" she hissed. "That Klingon has nothing to lose and will _kill_ you if he sees fit."

"Ow! Man!" Geordi said, pulling his arm from her grip. Still looking at her he massaged where he imagined there were now permanent fingerprints. "How do you know?" he asked glancing back off into the darkness.

To his surprise she looked confused, and even frightened. "The integrity of these negotiations has been compromised by the introduction of a spy…Korok is a traitor to his own people."

LaForge raised his eyebrows. "A spy? Working for who?"

Saris clenched her jaw angrily. "The Romulans."

Geordi backed away from her. "What? Did you know about this?"

"No," she said. "However I did suspect…." She trailed off. _Tomalak is to blame,_ she thought.

Geordi poked a finger in her face. "Well you know what I think—"

"LaForge!" Saris shouted a warning, as the Klingon quickly descended from the catwalk above. He slammed down heavily upon Geordi's shoulder, spinning the engineer out of the way. Geordi fell to the deck and skidded backward, firing his phaser at Korok. But he was so off balance that the shot went wide. Saris leapt toward Korok and spun quickly kicking him into the railing. Korok shouted, tumbling over the railing, just grabbing it to hold on with one arm. He growled and with an impressive show of strength yanked himself back up and over the railing.

Spinning again, Saris slammed her fist into the side of Korok's head. Laughing, he grabbed her wrist and folded it into a locked position. She cried out and kicked him in the side of his knee, causing him to growl and drop to one knee. Freeing her arm she moved back as Geordi fired his phaser on heavy stun again. Korok fell to all fours and Geordi used his own crouched stance to throw himself into the Klingon's side. He groaned as he felt his shoulder give against the thick armor.

"LaForge!" Saris yelled again before planting a heavy kick to the side of Korok's face. Geordi tried desperately to apply a choke hold, but Korok reached up and around and grabbed Geordi by the neck, forcing him to drop the phaser. Instead he held onto Korok's back. Growling, the Klingon got up, swiftly kicking the phaser over the edge of the deck into simulated nothingness.

Still holding the piggy-backed LaForge by the neck, Korok slowly rose to his feet and kicked at Saris, keeping her at bay before he threw himself backward into the railing, knocking Geordi cold. Breathing heavily he drew his disruptor and aimed it at Saris. With the other hand he reached down and pulled the unconscious LaForge up by the collar. "Now," said Korok, gasping for breath. "I want to talk to someone who can get me off of this ship and away from Kronos," he snarled.

Saris narrowed her eyes. "Your own people will kill you as soon as you leave this ship," she said. "If I do not kill you myself first…." she added tilting her head dangerously at him.

"With what?" he challenged.

She circled him. "We Romulans are quite ingenious. Perhaps I will kill you with your own disruptor...or perhaps I will use just the little finger of my right hand. And we Romulans do not mind seeing our victims suffer. In fact, I would personally enjoy seeing you suffer, Korok," Saris felt the need to clarify.

Korok yanked the limp engineer upward, gripping him around the chest and bringing the disruptor to Geordi's temple. "The only one who will suffer is this Human, if my terms are not met."

* * *

He stood outside the great hall of the palace of the Old King. He had killed many enemies to gain entrance to the King's most inner chamber. Now he paced back and forth, within meters of his prey on the other side of a heavy wooden door…but something inside his brain was no longer certain. He heard her voice inside his head echoing. He even heard her laughter. She had told him that she loved him and would not let anything happen to him. She was suffering for fear of losing him. He did not want her to suffer any longer.

He looked down at his arms, which were covered in tattoos. Even his own skin was no longer familiar to him. Sometimes, when he thought about her above all else, he saw the tattoos fade and the familiar material of his red uniform sleeve replaced the warrior's skin. This is what happened now, and it reminded him that he was still himself, even though he was inside a strange and frightening world. He did not want to kill the Old King—he did not want to kill anyone anymore, he just wanted to be free. But how?

A booming laughter interrupted his thoughts of escape.

 _"_ _The killing was not enough for you. So I gave you a counterpart. Was she not enough to keep you interested in this world?"_

 _"_ _No, I don't love her. And I do not want to be a part of this cruel game you have created. This is not a way to live,"_ shouted Picard.

 _"_ _You are wrong,"_ said the Other, looming over him _. "There are many ways to live, and this is as good as any."_

 _"_ _No, it is not,"_ said Picard firmly.

 _"_ _If you are too weak to rise as king of my world, then Doulos will enter_ _ **your**_ _world to rule as overlord."_

 _"_ _Who is Doulos?"_ Picard asked the hooded figure.

The booming laughter came closer. " _Who is Doulos?"_ the voice mocked him. An immense forearm the color of the space that exists between the stars reached into his abdomen, and as he screamed, a long trail of black was pulled outward. Staggering forward, but still on his feet, he watched as the black substance formed into a figure, slowly becoming more defined. Finally, the figure that stood before him was the menacing tattooed warrior.

" _This is Doulos,"_ said the Other. _"The perfect servant that you could not be; that you refuse to be. He resembles you, does he not? He is part of you, but in my eyes, he is much better than you."_

 _"_ _Then why don't you have Doulos kill the Old King?"_ Picard demanded.

The figure withdrew slowly. " _The Old King is useless now. Many years ago, this world was built around him from a small piece of my body, to satisfy both our needs. The King has forgotten his vengeance, but I still have my needs. Why kill him now, when the very destruction of this world will destroy him, be his undoing? He cannot exist without the world I have kept for him."_

 _"_ _My needs and wants can be satisfied in your world now. Despite your stubborn efforts to defy me, you have done enough, Picard. Using this other precious piece of my body you have bridged the gap between our two worlds. Now Doulos will prepare the way for my rule. But first he will kill you…."_

* * *

When Orla departed Guinan's quarters, a small purple orb continued float in mid-air. It had remained there for several hours now. Should she choose to accept Orla's challenge of saving the Old King, Guinan knew she would have only to touch the orb and she would be transported to where she needed to go; where Orla directed her. She also knew that she would need to be brave.

And now that Picard was missing from this world, she had no doubt that he was inside the Other's. If she located Picard inside the Other's world, what would she do? She should expect him to be hostile. What if he refused to return with her, or worse, was still bent on killing the Old King? And the Old King…if he was still alive? She would have no choice but to drag them both back into the world in which they belonged.


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

The conversation over subspace which had begun with Admiral Nechayev testily asking "What is it now?" had not improved significantly by the end of the first minute. Thirty minutes into it, things were not much better. The concern for Data was not that Admiral Nechayev interrupted Data when he was relaying recent events, but that she said almost nothing until he was finished telling her everything.

Data, who was accustomed to frequent interruptions, and prompts from the Captain such as: "Data, please get to the point", and "Data, I think we understand now", or "Thank you, that will be all Mr. Data." There was even the five second stare Captain Picard often employed which had the effect of making Data stop talking abruptly. Data knew that 32 percent of the time, Captain Picard would use Data's pause to change the subject, and 15 percent of the time he would end the meeting. But with Nechayev, Data had no such cues to guide him.

Finally when he had finished recounting everything of significance from the last 24 hours, the Admiral spoke. "So Commander, let me get this straight…Captain Picard is missing and his whereabouts are unknown; Commander Riker is in the intensive care unit, and Counselor Troi is now in a coma…."

Data nodded. "Correct."

"And further," continued the Admiral, "Chief Engineer LaForge is stuck on a malfunctioning holodeck with a renegade Klingon with a price on his head and a hostile Romulan officer…"

"Yes," Data agreed.

"…while the Romulans are making vague threats only Captain Picard could possibly explain, which of course he can't because he is missing, and the Klingons are demanding to board the Enterprise in order to hunt down the renegade Klingon."

"Yes, Admiral," Data admitted.

"Meanwhile, a being from an alternate universe appears to be attempting to control the minds of your crew."

"That is a fairly accurate description of our current status Admiral," said Data. "Do you have any orders sir?"

Nechayev's severe glare did not falter, but her tone was reasonable. "To be honest, Mr. Data, with much of your crew compromised I can think of no one more appropriate to be in command at this moment. It appears that you have your hands full. Abandon the negotiations on Kronos, at least temporarily until you are able to get things under control on board that ship. At the same time Data…the Federation-Klingon Alliance must not fail over some hurt feelings on the part of Chancellor K'mpec. _Fix_ the situation."

"Aye sir."

* * *

Picard backed slowly away from the hulking warrior in front of him. They stood inside the Old King's fortress, just outside of the inner chamber of the fortress, where presumably the Old King sat. Minutes earlier he had openly rejected the directive that he kill the Old King. It seemed strange to him that suddenly the spell seemed to have been broken, after days of being obsessed with achieving whatever the Other had wanted of him, namely killing and more killing of the enemies in this world.

Now, he saw things clearly again. He knew that at least in part, this was because his mind was unwilling to let go of the things and people in the world he was from; the people that he loved. His love for Beverly had helped to overcome his desire to obey the Other. Had she given up on him, he doubted that he would have been able to come back from the brink of madness. And there was something else. He now had some insight into the Other's motives. Guinan had been right; the Other was concerned only with fulfilling his lust for death and destruction, something Picard had ultimately refused to indulge him in any longer.

And the Other it seemed, no longer needed him, having cleaved the cruelest and inhuman pieces of Picard's personality, and forged them into a fearsome being he named Doulos. Picard recalled from his studies as a child that doulos was the word for "slave" in classic Greek. Indeed, the Other had found a more reliable servant in Doulos. But a slave was not a willing servant. Perhaps he could convince Doulos to turn away from the Other.

But unfortunately for him, he was trapped inside an alternate world, and one in which the Other had declared he would not return from. Doulos appeared ready to ensure that the Other's prediction would come true; that Picard would die a gruesome death. He realized he was in a compromising position, and considered fleeing. But he realized that this would not work. After all, where would he go? But more importantly, the Other's words echoed in his head: _Doulos will enter your world to rule as overlord…._

The thought of Doulos entering _his_ universe and creating chaos and destruction at the direction of the Other was utterly unthinkable. The fact was, he could not run, he had to stop Doulos if it killed him. If this being was created from a part of him, would it be possible to reason with it…him? He stared up at Doulos, who had so far not uttered a word. Picard wondered if he had the advantage of superior intelligence. He certainly did not want to assume so, as this could literally be the death of him.

* * *

When Ensign Wesley Crusher finally polarized the cells inside the holodeck control panel a tiny but satisfying bluish-white energy beam blinked on, confirming his success. He laughed, and backed out of the utility compartment, bumping the back of his head. "Ouch," he said, as just a little bit of the confidence he had just earned ebbed away.

He stood up and looked around at the other techs, his face flushed with excitement. They didn't exactly look pleased. Wesley brushed off their jealousy. He wiped his sweaty hands on the front of his uniform. "Should be all set now," he said, trying to sound as authoritative as possible.

Ensign Blake, one of the technicians stepped forward and punched a code into the control panel. "Computer end program," said the young man. The holodeck doors slid open halfway, which was certainly good enough. The tech turned to grin at them and then stepped into the holodeck. "Holy shit!" they heard him cry out. Almost immediately, he backed and nearly stumbled out of the holodeck with his hands in the air. Wesley and another tech grabbed phasers and ran forward, but froze as a Romulan woman stepped out of the holodeck, immediately followed by a black and silver clad arm gripping a disruptor.

Commander Korok kicked Sub-Commander Saris in the back, sending her tumbling forward. She caught her balance and turned back to face him, shooting a Starfleet tech a nasty warning look as he attempted to help her. Korok emerged with the disruptor, holding his other arm around Geordi LaForge's neck. He pointed the disruptor at Ensign Blake.

Commander Korok pointed the disruptor at Geordi's head. LaForge was barely conscious, and appeared to have sustained a head wound. He stood unsteadily on his feet.

"Geordi, are you okay?" Wesley cried out.

Laforge lifted his head. "Stay back, Wes," he said groggily.

Angrily, Korok slammed the butt of the gun into the side of Geordi's head, causing the engineer to go limp again.

"If you persist with that behavior you will kill him," said Saris.

"What do you care? Whoever heard of a Romulan with a soft spot?" snarled Korok. "Now," he said, keeping the disruptor at Geordi's temple and looking around at the stunned engineers and Wesley. "Who is in charge here?"

Ensign Blake looked at Wesley. Wesley's eyes widened. Yes, he had been put in charge of the tech team to fix the holodeck malfunction but… "I am," Wesley said, surprising even himself, stepping forward and trying to display a confidence he did not really possess.

Korok began to laugh derisively. "Very well," he said. "Then you will meet my terms, or this man dies."

Wesley swallowed nervously. "Look, please let my friend go. He didn't do anything to you."

"Your negotiation skills are unimpressive. I want a ship with warp capability," insisted Korok. "Will you give it to me? Choose your answer wisely, as your friend's life depends on it."

"This _child_ has no authority, you fool," shouted Saris. She turned to Wesley sharply. "You would be wise not to say another word, young human. He will kill your friend."

"I will kill him if he _does not_ speak," Korok retorted gruffly.

Wesley tapped his communicator. "Ensign Crusher to Commander Data. Sir, Chief Engineer LaForge has been taken hostage, by uh…uh large Klingon, sir."

Data's calm voice came on the channel. "Wesley do not engage with Commander Korok any further. Stand by," he said.


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

Guinan stood inside Beverly Crusher's office. "How is Counselor Troi doing?"

Beverly picked up her tricorder and placed it in her pocket. "She's still unresponsive, but stable," she answered tiredly. She kept her eyes fixed on her desk.

"Doctor, I know you blame me for what happened to Captain Picard…and to Troi. I should have known, right? I should have prevented it somehow."

Beverly put a hand up to her mouth still looking down. "I don't…I don't blame you…but I do wish there _was_ someone I could blame." She ran a shaky hand through her hair, and wisps of it came out between her fingers. Stress. She knew she was not holding up well. First Will, then Jean-Luc, and now poor Deanna. She turned to Guinan finally. "I just need him back…is that too much to ask?" she whispered.

Guinan shook her head, and walked closer. "No, of course not. And I've come to tell you that I am going to go and bring him back."

Now beginning to cry, she grabbed Guinan unexpectedly, hugging her tightly. Guinan kept very still, and finally Beverly pulled away, looking at her. "I don't know how you're going to do it…but I believe you." She wiped beneath her eyes and sniffled. "Because I have to believe in something," she said.

* * *

"I don't want to fight you," Picard said to the menacing figure before him. "It doesn't have to end this way," he said. "If there is any part of me inside you, then you must understand that."

The warrior reached up to touch the large jagged cut that ran down his face; the one Picard had carried on his own face for several days. That must mean Doulos still had the wound on his back too. The one from the Borg weapon.

"I know you can understand me," reasoned Picard, nearly shouting. "Throw your weapons down and we can defeat the Other together. You are not his slave!"

Doulos unsheathed a large nasty looking curved blade and brought it up to his face almost thoughtfully. A ray of hope shot through Picard as he watched. Seeing Picard watching him, Doulos began to laugh in a deep voice. He threw his sword down onto the stone floor with a clatter. "I do not need weapons to crush your bones into dust," he declared stalking forward.

Picard put up his hands, steeling himself for the blows he knew were coming. Doulos crouched down and began circling him. Even in a low stance he towered over Picard. He feinted to the right, and when Picard moved left in response, falling for the move, Doulos kicked him in his side with his left leg, sending him reeling. Doulos advanced without hesitation, and Picard ducked down and ran into his attacker's abdomen. He grunted, and spun away stunned as though he had struck a solid wall.

Not wanting his prey to fall too soon, Doulos snatched Picard by the wrist and pulled him toward him, lifting the smaller man up into a crushing bear hug. Picard choked, feeling the air leave his lungs. He shouted, and brought his fists up quickly, slamming them into Doulos' ears. Doulos screamed in pain and fury, and threw Picard away from him, sending him careening through the air into a nearby stone pillar.

"Unh," Picard grunted, crumpling to the floor in a daze. Doulos stomped forward shaking his head as though trying to clear his ringing ears. He reached down and grasped Picard by the throat and began to squeeze. Picard's face turned purple as he reached up with one hand and pressed Doulos' chin upward. Doulos increased the pressure, and Picard brought his other hand up desperately plunging it into the warrior's throat. Enraged, Doulos screamed and coughed, letting go of Picard. He turned his back on Picard, who was still struggling to get to his feet, and planted a kick backward into Picard's chest, sending him back into the pillar. Picard's neck whipped backward and his head struck stone. He was instantly in a fog, and struggled to remain calm. He blinked as blood ran down the back of his head, and from his nose.

Still clutching his neck, Doulos faced Picard again, the captain having risen to his feet again somehow. "You can't enter my world," Picard gasped, trying to catch his breath. "You don't belong there."

Doulos laughed. "You cannot stop the will of my master. He will rule through me and see his desires become a reality."

"No, it will never work," Picard breathed, taking a swing at Doulos, who blocked the blow, and countered with a punch to Picard's jaw. He quickly followed up with a volley of punches to Picard's head and body. Picard fell to his knees and watched as his own blood spatter on the floor beneath him. As Doulous advanced again towering above him. Picard delivered a punch up into the man's groin, sending him staggering away with a painful howl. Doulos was still bent over holding his injured parts when Picard got up at a clumsy run and kicked his opponent in the head causing him to stand up straighter. Picard aimed another kick this time into Doulos' groin. Doulos screamed and grabbed Picard by the back of the head, slamming Picard's forehead into his broad shoulder.

Picard bounced away, but Doulos threw and arm around him and pulled him closer. Lifting him up into the air, he brought his knee up between Picard's legs, and then threw him to the floor in a heap. Picard retched and tried to push himself up, but could not get to his feet. He crawled away slowly on the floor toward the abandoned sword, as Doulos followed limping behind him.

When he reached the sword, Picard grabbed it with both hands and then rolled onto his back slicing it through the air. It connected, cutting across Doulos' bare chest. Doulos cried out in pain but when Picard's arm finished its arc with the sword and his hand hit the floor, Doulos stomped on Picard's wrist. Picard tried to keep hold of the weapon, but Doulos twisted his foot cracking the bones in Picard's left wrist. Yelling in pain and anger Picard rolled on to all fours, trying to protect his wrist. Doulos picked up the weapon and slammed the flat side of the blade onto Picard's back. As consciousness waned, he heard Doulos laughing. "You are weak! Get up little man," he taunted.

Picard struggled to his feet swaying, holding his broken wrist. He faced Doulos, and blinked blood and sweat out of his eyes.

"After you are dead I am going to your ship, Picard," Doulos shouted. "And when I do, I will see your woman again."

Picard staggered forward. "Again? What are you talking about?"

Doulos leered at him. "You do not remember being with her that night, do you? But she does remember…and when she sees me, she will understand. And knowing you are dead she will fall in love with _me_ …."

"No! Stay away from her," Picard shouted, rushing forward. With his good arm he punched Doulos hard in his thick jaw, and then slammed an elbow into Doulos' temple. Trying to move in closer, he heard a sickening sound of metal into flesh and felt the ripping of his own skin and muscle. Looking down with shock he saw the sword had pierced his side. Doulos grinned at him and then kicked him, drawing the sword back out of Picard's abdomen as he fell to the stone floor with a thud. He could still hear Doulos laughing even as the world faded and he could see no more. And then he heard nothing more.

* * *

As Guinan turned to leave Beverly's office, she stopped cold. Something was very wrong. There was a presence in sick bay that should not be there. She turned back to Beverly. "Doctor, please stay here. I will be back soon." Beverly looked as though she wanted to follow, but instead complied.

Stepping out into the main sick bay she could now see what had alarmed her senses. Deanna Troi now sat up in her recovery bed. Her eyes were black and many black tendrils of something smoke-like drifted from her head, lifting through the ceiling and penetrating the walls and even the deck beneath Guinan's feet. " _I will have my army_ ," said a deep voice that was not Deanna's. " _This one has a strong mind. She will help me to build my army…_."


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31**

"Has the energy perimeter been set up around Counselor Troi?" Data asked as Worf approached from down the corridor.

"Yes, Commander…Doctor Crusher and Guinan were unable to make any meaningful contact with her. She appears to still be unconscious, yet she is emitting a black substance which we have confirmed has been seen on the decks above and below sick bay. We have instructed all personnel to avoid this substance if possible."

"And to avoid Counselor Troi…." added Data.

Worf fell into step beside him. "Yes, it would seem unwise to approach her, after having experienced similar circumstances with the Captain."

Data nodded. "We certainly have sufficient information to postulate that this is the same substance that has been visible in Captain Picard's eyes, and the same substance Doctor Crusher reported she saw leaving the artifact and entering Captain Picard's body."

"Whatever it is, it is a dangerous influence over our crew, and the energy field has so far been inadequate to stop it," said Worf. "An engineer reported being assaulted by his colleague after the substance passed through the man's foot and he went mad. We were able to restrain him, but he was extremely strong."

"These events are consistent with Captain Picard's open aggression and enhanced physical strength following his contact with the artifact," said Data. "However, Ensign Barnes had no visible known contact with the substance and yet he was also emotionally compromised, not unlike Captain Picard," said Data.

Data and Worf stopped abruptly as they reached their destination. As if on cue, a red transporter beam suddenly appeared in the middle of the corridor.

"Thank you for agreeing to beam on board, Ambassador," said Data. Worf straightened beside him. "Commander Korok may respond more favorably to you."

Ambassador K'Ehleyr gave him a small smile even before she finished beaming into existence. "No problem, Commander, always willing to help a friend in need." She winked at Lt. Worf, who did not appear to be amused.

* * *

How would Pritchard have ever met an El Aurian, much less married one? A thousand ways of looking at the situation ran through Guinan's mind, and still she came to no solid conclusion. It wasn't unusual for El-Aurians to travel to other worlds. Perhaps someone had traveled here to this time and place on Earth, fallen in love with Pritchard for a time and then moved on. It wasn't impossible…nothing against Pritchard of course, but why him?

So instead of dwelling on this mystery, she encouraged him to talk about other things as they trotted along. Eventually she knew they would increase speed to a gallop and there would be no more talking for most of the day until they made camp. "Where are we?" she asked him.

"After we crossed west of the Missouri River, we entered what used to be the Great Sioux Reservation."

"Used to be?" she asked.

"The government created the reservation to keep the Sioux, Cheyenne and other tribes in one place out here in the west of the Dakotas…to allow white settlements. But just about eight years ago a fella by the name of General Custer discovered gold in the Black Hills—where you're so itchin' to get to—and that was all she wrote. The whites flooded in, and the Indian tribes were forced onto even smaller reservations all through this region here," he said gesturing with his arm.

"And if they refused to go?"

"Well there were plenty of methods used…none of them completely effective and none of them friendly. Killing off all the buffalo was one…they haven't survived too well without the buffalo. The goal was to stop their main food source and make them dependent on the government for mealy corn and flour. No way to survive…."

He trailed off into silence and Guinan recalled the hundreds of hulking dead bodies she had encountered that first night after escaping the train. The very memory of it horrified her.

"As you can imagine," he continued, "The Indians didn't take that lying down, and it's been continuous conflict for years now. You see the Black Hills are sacred to many of the Indian tribes in this region. And when the government allowed the whites in to stomp all over the Black Hills looking for gold, it broke a treaty that was signed way back in '68. So the people didn't appreciate the government breaking yet another promise to leave the Indians and their land alone." He fell silent then and straightened in his saddle, suddenly attentive.

Guinan took a deep breath and took in an acrid smell, the smell of smoke—unmistakable on any planet.

"Whoa!" Pritchard stopped his horse just in front of her, holding up his hand for her to do the same. Ahead of them through some trees in a clearing, black smoke billowed up into the mid-day sky. Pritchard turned and looked at her, and concern played across his features. He jumped down and pulled out his rifle, walking toward the source of the smoke.

"Why are you bringing your gun?" Guinan called after him. "Looks like someone might need our help," she said, following his lead and dismounting from Peaches. For some reason she grabbed a blanket and some water before hurrying to catch up. She scrambled up a grassy hill and stopped just short of running into Pritchard. He had stopped and removed his hat, holding it solemnly over his heart. She moved around to stand next to him and followed his gaze. Before them lay what appeared to be the last of a small encampment. About a dozen bodies lay on the ground, many burnt, all dead.

Putting his hat back on his head, Pritchard walked further into the camp and then knelt down beside a body that was not as badly burned. He turned the dead man toward him enough so that he could see the cause of death; a bullet to the head. He rolled the man back over and then made a strange sign with his hand, before glancing back at Guinan. "Don't come down here," he warned in an angry voice.

He jogged back to Ulysses and grabbed a small shovel, and then marched past her again with it over his shoulder.

"What are you doing, Pritchard? What happened to these people?" He shook his head and once at the edge of the encampment looked around for a few moments before beginning to dig. Seeing what he was doing, she led the horses over to a tree nearby and hitched them loosely. Then she walked slowly through the camp, viewing the dead bodies all around, some of them children.

She picked up a small child, probably six years old, and carried the lifeless body in her arms over to Pritchard, who had quickly dug a three foot hole about three feet wide already. Clearly, he had done this before.

Without saying a word, she placed the child down carefully on the ground. Pritchard turned and made eyes contact with her before seeing the child. His face immediately went ashen and registered a look of horror and emotion she would not have thought possible coming from him. He turned away quickly resting his forehead on the handle of the shovel. "Didn't I tell you not to come down here?" he choked out, still averting his gaze. He pulled an old ratty handkerchief from his pocket and wiped angrily at his eyes, before exhaling loudly.

Guinan knelt down. "Who did this, Pritchard?" she repeated again, quietly.

He coughed and looked at her, and then started to dig again. "Raiders…settlers…the army…we'll probably never know." He sniffed in angrily. "Just happened, I'd say this morning."

"Who were these people?"

"Sioux," he said. He continued to dig steadily, and she could now see that he was digging a long trench. Wiping his brow he looked up at her. "This is gonna take a while," he said.

"I'll help you," she said.

* * *

"She's going to do _what_?" Riker's voice was extremely hoarse, and even sounded painful, but at least he was speaking. He sat up in his recovery bed, while Doctor Crusher fiddled with a small regeneration device fastened to the front of his throat.

"She's going into the Other's world…to find Captain Picard," Crusher repeated slowly.

He shook his head. "Hold still," she snapped, grabbing his chin firmly.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I just can't believe the things that have happened since I've been out of it."

"Well…neither can I," said Crusher. "But I have to trust that Guinan knows what she's doing."

"I'm not sure we have any better options," he agreed. "You need to clear me for duty as soon as possible, Doctor."

"Not so fast," she said letting go of his chin and stepping back. "Data has it under control, and you still need to rest and heal."

He rubbed his eyes. "But what about Deanna? I can't just sit here while she is being taken over by that thing."

Beverly sighed. "But we can't reach her—we can't even touch her, can we?"

"Can't we? We don't know anything about this thing, really Beverly."

 _Trust me; I know about it…I watched it take hold of Jean-Luc, didn't I? Watched it but didn't stop it,_ she thought _._ "Will, I know you care about Deanna more than anyone else on this ship, but there are a number of things beyond my control as well."

He closed his eyes. "Is that supposed to make me feel better, Beverly? At least you have your work to distract you."

 _As if that's enough,_ she thought. "Commander, you almost _died_ ," she reminded him. "We need you healthy, especially with Captain Picard missing. I'm not putting you back on duty for at least another day."

He sighed and lay back down slowly.

She turned her back to him as she put her medical equipment away. She could not think of Riker being injured without also thinking of how he was injured. By Jean-Luc. "Do you remember anything, Will?" She was almost scared to hear his answer, but she turned around to face him as he spoke.

"From getting injured? I remember Captain Picard turning to me after we got off of the transporter pad. He was so…enraged he was unrecognizable—his eyes were totally black. And then I guess he hit me, and after that I don't remember much."

Beverly stood very still. "Do you blame him?"

Riker brought his hand up to touch the front of his throat lightly. He swallowed and winced. "No," he said. "He was suffering under that damn curse…and now he's been taken from us because of it. How could I blame him?"

Beverly smiled faintly, and then turned her head at a strange cracking sound coming from the wall. She walked over, following the sound. "What the…" As she reached up to feel the wall, the cracking sound repeated and then a thin ragged fissure split quickly down the wall. "Ah!" she jumped back, and she saw Riker sit up in alarm and swing his legs over the side of the bed. A large piece of the wall split in front of her eyes and dropped to the deck, revealing a strange surface underneath. It was instantly recognizable to her as stone.

* * *

Guinan walked into her quarters. Deanna Troi was being used as some kind of conduit to transmit the desires of the Other, and to recruit his "army". She knew now that events were in motion that would not be stopped just because she intended to bring back the Old King, and even Jean-Luc Picard. Was he still alive, and if so would he willingly follow her? She could only hope until she arrived in the alternate world and discovered the truth.

She looked around her. There was nothing in that room that she needed to bring with her into the Other's world. Nothing except for a small dagger she removed from her cabinet and dropped into her boot. Seeing the small purple globe still floating in the middle of her living room, she closed her eyes and reached out to grab it.

* * *

Instantly she arrived on the staircase of a great castle. In the distance a blood red sun was beginning to set. All around her were remnants of Borg drones, cut down presumably by some version Picard and his loyal followers in this realm. And yet the world was now deadly silent and grey. She walked steadily up the steps toward where she hoped she would find the Old King, still alive. For now, she left her dagger in her boot.

Would she have to fight her old friend to capture the Old King and bring him safely back to the Enterprise? Feeling the urgency, she quickened her pace, taking several steps at a time, until she reached the top. Slinking inside an immense doorway, she was dismayed to look up and find a treacherous staircase that wound upward to dizzying heights. Putting one foot in front of the other, she began her ascent.

* * *

"Put the engineer down, Korok," K'Ehleyr ordered confidently.

Korok shifted his stance as Data, Worf and Ambassador K'Ehleyr approached. "Or what?"

"Or I tell K'mpec he was wrong to take the price off your head—that you _are_ the slimy traitorous _thupta_ he thought you were."

Korok looked confused. "Price…off my head?"

"It seemed he believed the Romulan Tomalak, who unexpectedly cleared your name just minutes ago."

"What?!" Saris stepped forward confronting the Ambassador.

"You actually sound surprised, Romulan," K'Ehleyr turning to her with a smirk. "You might be even more shocked to learn that the Romulan war bird has departed this system—as strongly requested by Chancellor K'mPec."

Saris opened her mouth and then clamped it shut, stepping backward. Abandonment by one's ship was unthinkable. She was instantly ashamed. Where was she to go? Her eyes narrowed. Tomalak had fled back to Romulus, no doubt fearful that she would expose his spying ways. Korok _was_ the spy who had infiltrated the Klingon Chancellor's inner circle… she was sure of it. But Tomalak's actions indicated the Romulan Senate had not sanctioned Tomalak's use of a Klingon spy…and perhaps he wished to avoid the ramifications of such a transgression. With Saris abandoned on an enemy vessel, Tomalak would be safe. And she would continue to be expendable.

Korok actually tightened his grip around Geordi's chest. LaForge was now awake, but held himself very still. "What is this trickery?" Korok growled, but his expression seemed open to listen.

"There is no trickery, you idiot," shouted the Ambassador. "Now let him go, before one of us shoots you."

Korok swore in Klingon and suddenly shoved LaForge away from him. Data caught Geordi, who was very unsteady on his feet.

Worf stepped forward and raised his arm as though to strike Korok, when the deck suddenly shook underneath them.

"Look!" Wesley Crusher shouted, pointing down the corridor. Following his gaze, the others saw that down the hall, the usual smooth lighted walls, ceiling and deck had disappeared, giving way to grey stone walls and an immense wooden door. Glancing to the side, Wesley saw a vine slowly winding from ceiling to floor, and green moss now replaced a computer wall terminal that had been there just seconds before. What was happening?

* * *

Guinan was out of breath when she reached the top of the winding staircase. She knew better than to look down from where she had come. Instinctively she knew the Old King would be behind the doors at the end of the long hallway. But before she even started forward, her heart sank. A familiar shape lay on his side in a large pool of blood. Shouting she ran quickly to his side and knelt down. The eyes of her friend Jean-Luc Picard were cold and lifeless staring up into the darkness. Perhaps minutes, or an hour ago his eyes had been pleading for his own life, but she had been too late. She felt his pulse. Nothing. His skin was bluish from loss of blood, and all warmth had already exited his body. She fell to her knees and for just one of a few times in her long life, she began to cry.


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32**

"Demetrius!" Guinan shouted. She had been pounding on the great wooden door for ten minutes now. She was growing tired, and was completely distraught from her failure to save her friend who was lying dead in the hallway behind her. She didn't want to return to the Enterprise with Picard's body. But she couldn't return without him. "Demetrius I know that you are in there!"

Finally came the sound of shuffling feet across a room.

"I have not answered to that name in almost one hundred years," answered a very tired sounding voice. "Now I am king."

"Not anymore you're not. Demetrius I am taking you home...to where you belong."

There was a long pause. "Teacher? Is that you?"

"Yes...it is me Guinan, your teacher. I've come to take you back to your world Demetrius. The world you used to love."

"But...but my parents..."

"Let's talk about your parents later. I have to get you home now. This world is killing you and everything left in it."

"But the master..."

"He has already forgotten about you. He was trying kill you, Demetrius. And he used my friend to do it." She slammed her fist into the door again. "He used him until he killed him!"

There was a loud creaking sound, as the door opened slowly inward. Guinan stood still, nearly holding her breath. Eventually a hunched figure became visible. An old man with long white hair and an unkempt beard peered out at her with frightened eyes. On his head was a delicate looking crown that seemed to move in the light. He had aged much faster than if he had lived in the original world all these years. But she recognized his sensitive brown eyes. She reached her hand out. "Come on," she said as gently as she could muster. "It's time to go."

"Teacher," he whispered, and tears came to his eyes. "I'm sorry…I was so wrong."

"You're not the only one at fault, Demetrius. I should have listened. And you were led astray."

"I'm sorry," he said again, tears now streaming down his wrinkled face. But he hesitantly gripped her hand. He smiled, showing her a mouth full of yellowed teeth. "Yes, I want to go home," he said. "To our world." His skin was so pale she could see his veins clearly, and he squinted in the dim light of the corridor as though he had been kept in darkness for ages. In a way, Guinan knew, he had been.

She nodded and led him out of the room into the corridor. Her heart sank when she saw Picard's body again lying still on the cold stone floor. She knelt down beside it again and bowed her head, considering what she should do; what she should say to the crew.

Demetrius knelt down beside her, staring at the lifeless figure on the floor of his castle. "Who is this man?" he asked.

Guinan turned Picard's body so that he was facing the ceiling. His body was becoming stiff now. She looked around for some piece of clothing she could use to wrap him in. There was nothing. "This is the man who would be king," she said quietly, then looked at Demetrius.

* * *

" _Data, something is happening up here on deck twelve."_

"Doctor Crusher, could you please be more specific? I am on my way to the bridge. However the turbo lifts are for some reason operating only at 48% efficiency," said Data.

" _Data, I've got more than a slow turbo lift problem here. The walls in sick bay are turning to stone, and there is some kind of moss growing on my medical equipment! Is that specific enough for you, Data?"_

"Yes, thank you, Doctor. It appears consistent with transformational phenomena underway throughout the Enterprise."

 _"What the hell is going on, Data?"_

"Doctor I am presently on my way to the bridge. Please remain at your post until further notice. If I find out what the hell is going on, I will inform you. Data out."

 _"Commander Data, this is Ambassador K'Ehleyr."_

"Yes, Ambassador? I had expected you and Commander Korok to have disembarked by now."

 _"So did we,"_ she said not even trying to hide her annoyance. _"We're in your main transporter room right now, and your Chief O'Brien is telling us the transporter has malfunctioned, and that the problem appears to be systemic-they're all down._ "

"I see," said Data. "Have you tried contacting Commander Targ? Perhaps he can beam you directly to the surface of Kronos."

" _No use,"_ she said. " _We've tried that too. Targ says there's some kind of energy field surrounding the Enterprise. Looks like we'll need to borrow one of your shuttles, Commander."_

"Of course," agreed Data. "I will arrange a transport for you shortly. Please proceed to shuttle bay two."

* * *

"Are you injured?" Worf asked Saris suspiciously as they walked on either side of LaForge, escorting him to sick bay. It bothered him to even have to ask her, as frankly he did not care. But security protocols needed to be followed.  
She did not reply, and remained stone faced.

"I am security chief on board this vessel, and I am asking you a question," pressed Worf. "Why do you not respond?"

Saris merely glared up at him in response.

"Guys..." said LaForge limping along between them. "Please don't argue, it's really hurting my head."

"I am _not_ arguing," Worf boomed. "She has refused to say a word."

"Well it's just _your_ voice ringing in my head then. But it still hurts," LaForge insisted.

"She is the enemy and we do not even know why she is accompanying you to sick bay, Commander," Worf insisted.

"I have my reasons," said Saris. LaForge looked at her with a hopeful expression, but she did not look at him. He felt for her—abandoned by her own ship. Who knows what she was thinking?

Worf stopped abruptly. "What the-?" He rushed forward attempting to break up what appeared to be an impromptu melee in the middle of the corridor. Several of his own officers were fighting with a group of engineers. "Crewmen! Stop this at once," Worf admonished them.

One of the security officers spun and tried to punch him. Worf ducked and the man's momentum sent him flying over Worf's shoulder. He stood angrily over the man, and then noted with shock that the man's eyes and the eyes of the other crewmen contained the same inky black material he had seen in Picard's. The crewman jumped up and pushed past him, resuming his attack on his colleagues.

Worf grabbed Geordi by the arm. "This is useless. Let's get to sick bay," he said.


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter 33**

"I have a confession to make," Pritchard announced that evening. They had found a stream to wash the stench of death from their bodies and now that they had finally made camp, exhaustion had set in for both of them. In a rare display of self-control, Pritchard had not touched his whiskey bottle. She thought it strange that of all nights, after the day they had spent burying bodies, he would have wanted a drink.

Guinan regarded him over her bowl of watery stew. "Oh really...what's that?"

"I think it was Bill Loomey and his gang that killed those Sioux and burnt down their camp."

"But I thought Loomey was still somewhere behind us."

He laughed. "I've done my best to steer us clear of him, to stay ahead of him-but this is just somethin he would do…has his nasty style written all over the scene."

"You mean the way he killed them?"

"Yep…single bullet to the head at close range. Every man woman and child. I've seen it before. He wanted me to see it too."

"What are you saying? That he killed those people just to make a point?"

Pritchard nodded. "Loomey is a dirty dog, Guinan. He's sending a message to me…'John Pritchard your time is a comin'.' " He raised his index finger to his head and made a made a clicking sound.

Guinan shook her head in disbelief. He sounded slightly paranoid, but he also sounded convinced. "Life seems to mean very little around here," she said.

He smiled. "Depends on who you are."

"Is that what you really believe?"

"Don't matter what I believe. There are some who will always have the power to determine who's important and who's not. That's just the way it is. If you were really from here you'd understand."

Guinan put down her empty bowl. "I'm glad I'm not from here, after seeing all of this death and destruction," she muttered.

"I suppose it's better where you are from huh? Why'd you leave then?"

She glared at him silently.

"Still don't want to tell me, huh?" He got up and dusted off his pants, walking over to Ulysses. He gave the horse a gentle pat, and then reached inside a bag, pulling out a small flat item.

He sat back down. "One thing I can never get enough of—besides drink—"

"And prostitutes," she reminded him dryly.

He gave her a look. "…books," he said with a sly smile. He opened the book, but she could not read the writing on the front. "My wife never told me where she was from, but when she was in the right mood sometimes, she did let me know _when_ she was from." He smiled craftily at her. "This book is one she gave me a long time ago. It's called _The Time Machine_."

When her expression remained blank, he continued. "Want to know when this was published?"

She shrugged. "When?"

He suddenly tossed the book in her direction, and she caught it by the front cover. "1895," Pritchard shouted. "Fourteen years from now! So there," he said, lying back against a log and looking very satisfied with himself. "You're from the future."

Guinan laughed and settled down on her bed roll. "Because your wife gave you a book that hasn't been published yet you think _I'm_ from the future? That is assuming your wife and I have some kind of connection."

He stared at her. "Don't you?" The sadness she had seen at times during their journey reappeared in his gaze.

"I'm sorry Pritchard…but I don't know your wife. Is that what you have been hoping all along?"

He didn't answer right away, but put his hands behind his head and stared up at the stars. "You speak the same language as my wife…and just like her nothing seems to bother you too much."

"What if we _were_ connected? What does that matter? She's gone…you said so yourself."

He sat up and pulled off his hat angrily, throwing it into the dust. He got up stretching briefly before finding one of his stolen whiskey bottles. Returning to the fire's edge he crouched down and took a long pull from the bottle. "I lied to you," he said darkly.

"Oh? About what?"

"I'm not a Shawnee Indian," he said. "My father was as white as can be. But you never doubted my story did you?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Let's say I wasn't from here… _if_ I wasn't from here, and from the future, as you put it, maybe things like that don't matter anymore. Maybe where I come from we don't even have a word for such things," said Guinan.

"Well good!" He laughed and leaned back against the log with his bottle. "That's real good," he repeated softly. "I was worried the future was gonna be real awful…like in _The Time Machine_."

She smiled. "I wish I could say it was perfect. But it's not. Why did you lie about your father?"

"Well it wasn't all a lie. My daddy _was_ murdered when I was young, but only because he was a drunk who ran after someone's wife. Anyway…I think I thought you might trust me more. That you might relate better to me. But getting to know you, I sometimes doubt you could relate to anyone on this planet."

"You might be right about that," agreed Guinan. "So why don't you tell me something true, Pritchard? About yourself. Why did you look at that child the way you did this afternoon?"

To her surprise he didn't get angry this time. "That child reminded me of my boy. He died of cholera when he was just five." He took a deep breath and rested the bottle against his chest. "That was why she left me. She blamed herself. She could never get over that she couldn't save his life. She told me that my love had taken all of her power away. She left because she realized she could live without me, but not without her damned powers."

* * *

When Data entered the bridge, there were a number of unexpected problems. The first was that the structure of the bridge was nearly unrecognizable. As with some of the corridors and sick bay, the walls and ceiling had turned to stone. Thick green vines climbed the walls and ceiling and amazingly a sun not native to Kronos shone in from the skylight at the top of the bridge.

The second concern was that two crewmembers armed with phasers flanked him as soon as he stepped off of the lift. They said nothing but followed him with weapons trained at his head as he walked slowly onto the bridge. Most of the bridge had been replaced by stone supports. From where the Captain's ready room had so recently existed, a fountain of water poured into a dark pool.

At the center of the bridge rose a giant stone throne. The view screen was nowhere to be seen. But as Data looked on, a black portal opened in the stone wall where the screen used to be.

A crewman pushed a phaser up against Data's temple. "Kneel!" the angry man ordered him.

Before Data could refuse or comply, there was a rushing sound and a large being stepped through the portal, bringing with him a group of similarly tattooed and concerning looking soldiers, holding antiquated, but sharp weapons. The leader wielded a large curved sword that was covered in blood.

"Kneel or die," ordered Doulos, as he approached Data. Doulos turned and surveyed the Starfleet crew and extended his hand. Immediately the crew with the exception of Data fell to one knee reverently. "On my blade is the blood of your former king. He was unworthy and is now dead. I am Doulos, Overlord of this realm."

* * *

The old man studied her face silently and then looked back at Picard's still form. "I have killed countless Borg over the years. And each one deserved to die."

Guinan turned to look at Demetrius again. "Oh really? And where did that get you? What _good_ did it do?"

"It does not matter anymore," said the Old King.

 _Maybe so._ Guinan sighed and pulled the small purple globe of energy out of her pocket.

Demetrius' eyes widened. "What is that?"

Guinan smiled slightly. "It's our way home," she said. She held it in her hand, still unable to take her eyes off of Picard's face. Even in death with a battered face he appeared very noble. And the expression on his face was not horrified but indignant, as though he knew he had been cheated; and he had. She reached over and closed his eyes, just as tears again threatened to escape her own. She closed her eyes momentarily.

"Teacher, let's go," said Demetrius.

When Guinan opened her eyes she had an idea. She brought the small globe up to her face and stared into it. What had Orla said? Something about bringing Picard to her. Well she had been too late to bring Picard to Orla, and he had died before he could be saved…but perhaps it was not too late after all.

This tiny globe _was_ Orla, in a way. So even if Picard could not be brought to Orla, maybe she had already brought Orla to Picard. She held the orb between two fingers and smiled with the possibility of something great. Growing serious again she examined Picard's body more closely. What had been the primary cause of his death? She studied his face, and it was swollen and bruised, but none of the wounds appeared serious enough to have caused his death. His hands were also bruised and bloodied and there were immense fingerprint marks on his neck where he had been strangled by someone quite large.

But this clearly was not the cause of death, because she could not ignore that he was lying in a very large pool of blood. She lifted the right side of his shirt and found his ribs were severely bruised. Standing up to get a better view she could see a wound on his left lower abdomen. Lifting his body slightly she could see that it exited at his back. He had been run through by a sword. She looked again at the glowing purple ball in her palm.

"What are you doing?" demanded Demetrius.

"I'm going to use this…on him," Guinan said, nodding toward the body.

"You—you said this was our way home. If you use it on him, will we still have the means to travel back to the world?"

Guinan shook her head and then shrugged fixing him with a somewhat cold expression. "I don't know…but without Picard, I don't want to go back anymore."

The old man nodded reluctantly and stood back as she crouched down next to Picard's body. She cleared away around the stab wound and then moved the orb over it. She wasn't quite sure what to do next, so she took a chance and placed the purple orb on top of the wound. She sat back on her heels and watched as it grew brighter, lighting the dim hallway.

Demetrius suddenly fell to his knees. "Or-Orla!"

Guinan nodded and then watched in silent fascination as the globe disappeared inside the wound. A bright trail of purple light was now moving gradually through his abdomen. After about a minute it had moved to his chest. She could see his spinal cord and heart glowing a bright purple hue. And then gradually his heart began to beat once, and then slowly but steadily. There was a weird popping sound, and the purple ball of energy emerged from Picard's chest and into the air. Guinan stuck her hand out quickly to grasp it, shouting with involuntary joy.

So Picard was alive, but there was a problem; the wound began to bleed again. Orla had saved his life, but only just. Guinan took off her coat and tied the sleeves tightly around Picard's abdomen. He was now breathing, shallowly, but he was breathing. Unable to stop and enjoy this victory, she pulled him to a sitting position. He had lost so much blood that he was still just beyond consciousness. Without a second thought, she pulled him over her shoulder and then stood up holding his body tightly with one arm. She held out her other hand palm up to Demetrius. The purple globe in the center of her palm promised to take them home. "Let's go," she said, and with a smile that made him seem quite young the Old King placed his hand in hers and they disappeared.


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter 34**

"How do you feel?" asked Beverly gently, holding Deanna Troi's hand in hers. About an hour earlier, she had simply fallen limply onto her hospital bed from her strange sitting position. The black substance had disappeared, her eyes had returned to normal, and she was now awake and apparently alert.

Deanna smiled. "I'm alright now, thank you."

"Do you remember what happened?"

Deanna's smile disappeared. "It was the Other. He used me, used my mind to reach the people on this ship. Even though I have been trained to control my mind only to aid people, never to harm them, there was absolutely nothing I could do to stop it, Beverly."

"I know, Deanna. We are dealing with someone or something who is powerful and his only aim seems to be to want to hurt us."

Deanna nodded and closed her eyes briefly. When she opened them again she looked at her friend with concern. "Beverly, how is Captain Picard?"

Beverly stood up. "He's gone. He disappeared around the time you fell into a coma."

"Goddess…" Deanna whispered.

Beverly took a deep breath, and could not keep herself from shuddering. "Guinan went to find him. She's been gone for hours now." She looked down at her hands. "I'm trying not to give up hope…but look around us, Deanna. The walls are literally closing in. What is happening to our ship?"

* * *

 **South Dakota, 1881**

Later that evening, Guinan could not sleep. She went to the edge of the small stream where they had bathed earlier that evening and sat down in the cold sand. The moon was full and a beautiful pale yellow, but she felt strangely alone. She didn't know if it was Pritchard's sad tale of abandonment and longing, or her own fuzzy memories of her mother that had brought this mood on. But the more she considered it, the more she had to admit that Pritchard was right. There was a connection. Why did she care? She hadn't come to the planet to make friends.

"And yet you did," floated a voice over the bubbling of the stream. She looked up above her head to find an hourglass shaped purple light. "I am proud of you, that you have forged a friendship that will last across space and time," said the light.

Guinan almost fell backward from her sitting position, but caught herself. "Orla?"

"Yes," said the light.

"I need to know the truth," Guinan said, trying not to sound frightened. But she was, as she had never encountered Orla before.

"I understand," said Orla, and the light floated closer to her.

"It's no coincidence that I met Pritchard, and that he met me, is it?"

"No. Is that all you want to know?"

Guinan got to her feet. "No." She paused. "When I was a child my father cried every night after my mother left. He said she left to travel across space and time. That she had special powers beyond the average El-Aurian."

"As do you," said the light.

Guinan continued. "My father grew bitter because my mother left and he has grown old long before his time because of this loss."

"It is a sad thing," said Orla.

"And then I come to this hostile planet and I find a person who is also pining for his wife, a woman he thinks is from the future…who just appeared in his life one day…a woman who speaks El-Aurian."

"It appears that you have come to a conclusion," said the light.

"I don't understand…why are you doing this? Why are you interfering with the lives of mortals, who don't understand why they love you so much—who almost die when you leave?"

"Perhaps being immortal is not enough," said Orla. "Perhaps I need love too. Perhaps even Orla would like to live a normal life. I have a very great capacity for love."

"And so you travel the universe making people fall in love with you, only to leave them alone and heartbroken?"

"Yes."

"But why?"

"If I can be anything to anyone, then why not? John Pritchard already had in his mind a picture of the woman he loved. I simply appeared to him as that woman. What is wrong with that?"

"What is wrong is that it always results in pain. Because I grew up without a mother and poor Pritchard lost his wife. And his child."

"I was just as saddened by the loss of my child as John was. Living as a mortal woman I could not save my child from dying from a horrible disease and it was time for me to leave."

"I still don't understand," said Guinan. "You left when he needed you most."

"I would not be surprised if John Pritchard, or someone quite like him, meets a woman like this again in another life at another time and place. And if the time is right, they will both be happy."

"I suppose that is some comfort," said Guinan.

"You are disappointed in me, which makes me sad," said Orla. "I am very powerful, but I am not a perfect being. I need to know that my child still loves me. Do you still love me, Guinan?"

"I don't know."

* * *

"Listen up, everyone," Doctor Crusher said over the increasingly frantic murmur in main sick bay. Normally efficient doctors and nurses wandered aimlessly through main sick bay. "I need everyone's attention," she repeated loudly. The nervous chatter hushed and her staff turned to her expectantly as she stood in the center of the main medical bay. "We've lost contact with the other minor sick bays."

Confused crew members glanced at one another worriedly. The murmuring began again.

"It's not going to do any of us, or our patients for that matter, any good to panic," said Crusher. "Obviously there are some strange forces at work on board the Enterprise, and things are changing rapidly."

"Are we even _on_ the Enterprise anymore?" demanded a frantic looking orderly. "My wife told me we don't even have a warp core anymore, and half the crew has gone insane and is roaming the ship with phasers."

Beverly Crusher paused in momentary shock. She hadn't heard any of that before now. "The _best_ thing we can do for the people on this ship right now is to focus on keeping our supplies in order," she continued. "Now I want us to organize all of the low-tech medical supplies we have and get them ready for relocation."

"Where are we moving to?" asked Nurse Ogawa.

"I have _no_ idea," muttered Crusher walking away toward a storage room.

* * *

"Replicators are down on most levels, sir," said the ensign, handing Riker a data pad as the First Officer paced back and forth outside main sick bay.

"How long will our food last?"

"Each deck was stocked with food and water for approximately six weeks, Commander. But these stores along with everything else are now disappearing with the rest of the normal features of each deck."

" _Commander Riker,"_ came Worf's voice. Riker held his hand up for the ensign to wait.

"Yes, Worf, go ahead."

" _I have good news and bad news_ ," said the Klingon.

"Bad news first," snapped Riker.

 _"We have found Lt. Commander Data. He was in a turbo lift on deck 4."  
_  
"That's great, I'm glad you located him," Riker said relieved. Data had been missing and unreachable for hours now. They'd just got Deanna back and the last thing they needed was another casualty.

 _"His last known destination was the bridge."_

Riker felt himself growing irritated. "I know, Worf, why the mystery...you said you found him…how is this bad news?"

 _"Commander Data has been...beheaded."_

" _What?_ Is his head—is it with his body?"

" _Yes sir."_

"LaForge is still in sick bay. Bring Data's body and head down here to Deck 12 and have LaForge repair him."

 _"Aye sir..."_

"So what is the good news?" Riker demanded.

 _"I was not finished reporting the bad news to you, sir."_

" _Go_ ahead," said Riker tightly.

"There appears to be human blood on his uniform and neck area...as though it were transferred from the blade that struck him."

Riker's mind began racing. "What is the status on the bridge, Worf? Can we get up there?"

 _"_ _No. the turbo lifts to the bridge are no longer operational."_

"And the utility ladders?"

 _"_ _I tried climbing them myself, Commander. There is an energy field preventing access to the bridge."_

Riker exhaled loudly and leaned against the wall. "Worf, how about that good news?"

 _"_ _Deck 10 is for some reason largely resistant to the changes taking place on board. In particular, Commander, Ten Forward has not been affected by the technological regression we are experiencing everywhere else."_

Riker grinned, despite his foul mood. "We've got about 500 crew accounted for, and the rest are either missing on sealed off decks, or just plain hostile. Let's start relocation of those we have to Deck 10 immediately."

* * *

LaForge sat on a bio bed dangling his legs over the side. Across from him Romulan Sub-Commander Saris sat with a somber expression. What was she still doing here? "You know, I appreciate the support, but you don't have to stay here, Saris."

She looked up at him sharply. "I am a prisoner on board this ship, Commander LaForge. I cannot leave. So sitting here with you is as good a place as any."

LaForge made a face. "Thanks…I think." He braced his hands on the bed and stared at the floor. "So all of that stuff you said before…."

"I was ordered to seduce you," she said abruptly, and got up from her chair.

" _What?"_ Geordi slipped off of the bed, and winced at a throbbing pain in the back of his head. Whatever Doctor Crusher had given him for his concussion really didn't seem to be working. "I should have known it couldn't be for real! You made me look like an idiot."

"I did not _make_ you look like anything you are not already," she said with a pointed expression.

"Oh yeah?" He struggled for the appropriate come-back, but it just wasn't there. He had sustained a head injury after all. _Damn,_ he thought. _I really have no luck with women._

There was suddenly a commotion outside of the room, and Worf entered noisily carrying something. Wordlessly, he dropped Data's body not too gently on the bed Geordi had just vacated. Pulling Data's head from under the crook of his arm, he dropped it onto the bed.

"Hey, hey!" LaForge protested. "You can't just _drop_ him like that, Worf, come on. Now, what the hell happened to him?"

Worf frowned down at the engineer. "I realize you have sustained a head injury, Geordi. But it should be obvious even to you that someone or some _thing_ has cut off Commander Data's head."

Geordi turned Data's head toward him. "If I'm going to do this, I'm going to need some tools, Worf."

Worf shrugged. "There is very little to work with here," said Worf. "But if we move Data to Ten Forward we can replicate a hyper spanner."

"Okay," Geordi said and bent over to examine the body more closely. He looked up in alarm. "Worf there's human blood on his neck port, and on the collar of his uniform."

Worf nodded, and turned to regard Doctor Crusher as she entered the room then. "Come on everyone, we're leaving for Deck 10." Her gaze fell on Data's uniform. She said something softly to herself, and pulled a tiny vial from her pocket. She expertly swiped the vial over the blood stain on Data's uniform, and then dropped it back into her pocket.

Several hours later, as stray members of the crew continued to stream into Ten Forward, Geordi successfully reactivated Data. He glanced over at Saris, who leaned against the view port. "Not such an idiot now am I," murmured Geordi. She appeared unimpressed however.

Data sat up stiffly. He reached up and touched his forehead and then his neck. He turned his head back and forth. "Thank you, Geordi."

"Data," said Riker. "We were worried about you, but I think we all knew you'd pull through."

Data gave him a small smile. "Thank you, Commander. It is good to be alive."

Riker smiled and then quickly grew serious again. "Data we need to know what happened to you. What's happening up on the bridge?"

"Commander, I am afraid that the situation is quite grave." He described the altered bridge and hostile crew members. "A portal opened in the front view screen," continued Data. "A large tattooed being armed with a curved sword stepped through and declared himself to be 'Doulos, overlord of this realm'. With him was a group of warriors carrying similar weapons. He demanded that the Enterprise crew present on the bridge kneel before him."

Beverly Crusher walked forward, clutching her tricorder in one hand and a tiny vial in the other. Her hand shook, and she pressed it against her thigh to steady it.

Riker swallowed. "Did they kneel?"

"Yes," said Data. "They seemed quite willing to do so in fact."

Riker clenched his jaw angrily. "And then?"

"The being identifying himself as Doulos declared that our former 'king' was dead and that the blood on his sword was that of our king. And after I refused to swear allegiance to Doulos, he cut off my head."

Beverly took the tiny vial she had been holding and stuck it into the top of her tricorder. Almost immediately it beeped and a green indicator turned on. She read the screen and then stepped back with an expression of shock crossing her features. Her hand shook, as she backed away, and nearly walked into Saris who looked on curiously, but moved out of the way.

"Beverly, we can't know for sure," Deanna said, stepping to her side.

Beverly straightened and smoothed the front of her lab coat with a faraway look on her face. "Where's Wesley? Where's my son? No, don't touch me," she waved Troi off. "I need to find my son," she said walking away.

* * *

When they first materialized, Guinan was not entirely sure that they were even on the Enterprise. Almost the entire corridor had been transformed into a stone version of itself; no lights, and certainly no computer terminals. Toward the end of the corridor she saw a few faded words on the wall: "Deck Eight". _Alright,_ she thought. _Just get up to Ten Forward and contact sick bay from there._

Picard shifted on her shoulder. It appeared he was now awake, which was a good sign. It certainly wasn't from her medical care, if it could be called that, which consisted of draping him awkwardly over her shoulder and holding him by the legs.

"I'm upside down..." he groaned. His arms hung down loosely and blood ran slowly down his arm and through the fingers of his left hand, dripping onto the deck.

"What is he saying?" Demetrius asked.

"Guinan, is that you?" Picard croaked. "Wait..."

"Wait? If we wait any longer you'll die. Again."

There was a pause as a few more breaths rattled through his chest. "I died?"

"Yes," she said, busily searching for a turbo lift. Eventually she came to a narrow opening where the turbo lift should have been.

She waved Demetrius inside and then carefully slipped through with Picard. Before them lay a narrow passageway and a staircase winding upward. "Oh, not again," she muttered.

"Am I too heavy?" Picard asked weakly.

"No, of course not. Now be quiet and save your strength. That's an order, Captain." She was telling the truth; he wasn't that heavy, and although she appeared very unassuming, she was physically quite strong. She sighed as she began to climb the stairs. Demetrius hobbled along behind them saying nothing. Ages of solitude had apparently conditioned him to be spare with his words. But she knew eventually he would have to talk.

Picard was silent a moment more. "Guinan?"

"Yes?"

"Please don't tell Beverly I died..."

"That goes without saying," she replied.


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter 35**

"The crew of this ship is weak. The android did not even try to kill me to save his friend," Korok said, sounding disappointed.

"Don't be a fool," remarked Ambassador K'Ehleyr. "Commander Data let you go because he had more important things to do than bother with you. This ship is clearly in crisis. But, do not be surprised in the near future, if Starfleet sends a summons for your arrest for your assault on the engineer."

" _Ptah_ , I will not hold my breath waiting for that to occur. Besides, you know as well as I that I am as good as dead once I arrive on Q'Onos," said Korok, halting before the shuttle bay entrance. "Having my name cleared by a Romulan may be more dangerous than working for one. Chancellor K'mPec would kill me himself if he wasn't so fat."

K'Ehleyr turned her gaze to him. "Your lack of confidence in your own survival skills is disappointing, Commander. If I were you, I would keep a more positive outlook. It may be all that you have…."

The doors opened and they stepped inside. K'Ehleyr immediately put her hand on her disruptor, and took a step backward.

"This is not how I pictured a Starfleet shuttle bay," remarked Korok, surprise evident in his voice.

"That's an understatement," K'Ehleyr murmured. Before them lay a huge open space, once the shuttle bay. Now not a ship was present. Instead, it had been changed to some kind of gathering place. Indeed hundreds of Enterprise crew members, mixed in with strange looking warriors, with shaved heads. Even the Starfleet crew members had gone so far as to shave their heads in what K'Ehleyr guessed was a show of solidarity. All knelt, heads bowed, apparently waiting for someone or something to enter. Above them floated a platform, defying gravity. A murmur went through the crowd, as though they were chanting in anticipation for the arrival of someone great. There was a red glow to the bay, and in the center of the far wall, where the shuttle bay doors had been was a swirling black disk. For a normally antiseptic and tidy Starfleet area, this was a bizarre scene.

"This isn't right. I think we should get out of here," the Ambassador muttered, taking another step backward. She felt a strange pull inside her mind, as though staying there was an option. A powerful voice spoke to her in a whisper, urging her to stay and fight for him. She shook it off.

Korok turned to look at her. "Why? Don't you want to see what is going to happen?" His expression was one of excitement and anticipation. Something about being in the presence of the alien-looking warriors stirred something in his blood.

"No, not really," said K'Ehleyr, even as the voice continued its sinister whispering.

At that moment, the black swirling disk on the wall slowed its turning, and a large being stepped outward onto the platform. The figure was large and muscular, and over two meters tall, making even a large Klingon like Korok look small. His skin was covered in black and red tattoos, and like the warriors kneeling down before him, he was humanoid in appearance and bald. His eyes were completely black in color. Apart from his hulking size, there was something strangely familiar about his face. She drew her disruptor instinctively as recognition set in. Captain Picard had disappeared recently. Was this him, returned from another dimension distorted and warped into this formidable creature?

"Let's go, Korok," she commanded, but he was walking away from her toward the crowd slowly. The being was speaking now, and the crowd hushed into silence. She stared at him transfixed, despite her instinct to run. Even his voice sounded like Picard's, although the tone was distinctly menacing.

"My master has assembled an army around me to vanquish all foes who dare stand in his way. You are that army. The master will be unhappy until he brings all who oppose him under his power. Those who will not join us will be destroyed. Your only purpose is to serve the master's desires." He paused and his eyes focused on the two Klingons. He began to laugh. "Join us!" He stretched out a hand palm outward and a black smoke emitted from it, slowly unfurling in their direction.

"Korok, look out," she shouted, but she was too late. The black cloud enveloped Korok and then seemed to disappear into him.

He turned and grinned at her. His eyes shone black. "I'm not going anywhere," he assured K'Ehleyr. "And neither are you," he said, pulling out his disruptor and firing. She spun out of the way and fired back at him. The being's thunderous laugh echoed through the former shuttle bay. She hit Korok, but instead of falling to the deck, he seemed invigorated by the crippling burst of energy, and laughed as it soaked through his body.

Backing up quickly, she moved through the doors to safety. As she continued at a near run down the corridor, it was now clear to her that there was no way off of this ship. She had to find someone who was not under the sway of the evil at work inside the shuttle bay, and she had to warn them.

* * *

Beverly Crusher sat quietly gazing out of a view port in Ten Forward, the only known refuge on the ship. It was the only place left on this ship where hostility and chaos did not reign, where replicators worked and technology was not disappearing because of the Other's interference. However, this did not mean that the ship's lounge was a good replacement for her medical bay, which like everywhere else on the Enterprise had been abandoned as useless for its originally intended purposes. Still she would do her duty. But right at that moment her duties were no longer enough to distract from her internal pain.

At her side was her son, who silently held her hand. Clearly he did not know what to say to comfort her, but that was alright. That he was with her and safe was enough. It was not the first time in her life that she had thanked the stars that she had Wesley to rely on, to take refuge in, and to protect. And not for the first time, she also wondered silently to herself whether she would ever truly be happy.

The loss of her parents at a young age had caused her to secretly long for domestic bliss, but had also caused her never to expect it. While she had found love with Jack, what had seemed an outwardly perfect marriage was not so. Years before Jack died she had blamed herself for the persistent feeling that something was missing. It seemed that the longing and restlessness continued even when she was married to Jack, even when they brought Wesley into the world. It still wasn't enough. For a long time, she had hated herself for this weakness; but not nearly as much as she wanted to be with Jean Luc.

Now, according to Data a being from another universe had invaded the ship and was claiming that he had killed Jean-Luc himself. Was he really dead? Part of her feared the worst. But a larger part of her, the scientist in her knew the evidence was not completely convincing. A sword with Jean-Luc's blood on it, however gruesome, did not necessarily mean that he was dead. And an even larger part of her, the part that believed in him, the part that trusted Guinan, did not believe for a second that he had perished.

Wesley squeezed her hand, and she put her free arm around his shoulders, and he leaned against her. "Mom?"

"Hmm?"

"I never got to tell Captain Picard...well I never got to tell him how much..."

She kissed the side of his face. "I know, Wes. But there is no point in being full of regret. Trust me; I have learned that the hard way over the years. Besides, you might still have a chance to tell him anything you want."

He turned to look at her in surprise. "Do you really believe he's still alive?"

She smiled at him, but found herself unable to speak upon hearing the question posed out loud.

Wesley turned his attention back out of the view port. "I used to think he didn't like me—"

"Oh Wes…."

"—but I know that's not true now."

She smiled faintly. "Good."

"But sometimes I wonder how he would react if I told him that I—that I really admire him."

Beverly felt her eyes fill with tears. "I'm sure he would be very touched," she said quietly.

Wesley smiled. "Really?"

"Yes, Wesley…I know this might be difficult for you to believe, but he loves you. Just as he loved your dad."

* * *

Commander Riker walked through the temporary cots set up on deck ten. There weren't enough quarters on deck ten to accommodate the crew currently assembled, and they had used a utility replicator to replicate several hundred temporary beds. It reminded him of refugee camps he had seen on war-torn planets. But compared to Ten Forward, the rest of deck ten was relatively upbeat. Back inside Ten Forward the mood was somber, and he was happy to distract himself with other duties. Nearly everyone present in Ten Forward had witnessed Data explaining his interaction with the being Doulos, on the now commandeered Enterprise bridge. Many of the crew no doubt now believed Captain Picard was dead. Riker did not know what to think.

"Worf to Commander Riker," came a gruff voice.

Riker hit his communicator. "Go ahead," he said.

"Sir, I've just come from the main armory."

Riker frowned. "Is it even still in existence?"

"Yes sir. But it is of no use to us. It appears to have been raided."

"Meaning Doulos has most of our weapons."

"Yes sir."

"Get back up here Worf. We can't afford to lose anyone else."

"Commander!"

Riker turned at the sound of a familiar voice. His jaw dropped. It was Guinan, and she was carrying Captain Picard loosely over her shoulder as though he were a rag doll. Slightly behind her and shuffling along was a disheveled looking old man, who appeared almost lost in thought and completely out of his element.

Riker was overtaken with joy and laughed, clapping his hands on top of his head, seriously hoping that this was not a hallucination, and that Picard was actually still alive.

At that moment from an adjacent stairwell appeared Worf, who exclaimed something in Klingon and rushed toward them.

Guinan winced up at Worf. "What happened to the turbo lifts? I've had my fill of stairs for a while."

Riker and Worf moved closer to help as Guinan carefully transferred Picard's torso into Worf's arms while Riker grabbed his legs. Picard grumbled something.

"What did he say?" asked Riker.

"He said he's not dead," said Guinan helpfully, shaking out her stiff shoulders.

Worf broke into an uncharacteristic smile. "He lives."

Beverly Crusher stood up when they walked in to Ten Forward and immediately flew into action. She was unable to stop and realize the significance of his appearing on the Enterprise again. Instead her only focus was on his grey pallor and limp form indicating that he was gravely wounded. She pointed to a large table. "Bring him over here," she commanded Riker and Worf, who complied and laid him down carefully on the table. His head lolled to the side and his lips moved. His hands and feet twitched.

"What kind of condition was he in when you found him?" Crusher demanded, using a cutting tool to cut through his shirt quickly.

Guinan moved closer and looked down at Picard whose eyes opened almost imperceptibly to peer up at her with the same steely resolve he always had. She remembered her promise to him.

"Not so good, Doctor...he was in ...really bad condition."

"Could you be more specific?" Crusher ran her tricorder over his body, taking his vitals.

"Well," said Guinan. "He had been stabbed."

Beverly looked up sharply. "And you tied your jacket around his wound...remind me to get you a first aid refresher training someday soon." She moved her hand lightly over the wound, and then began to clean around it quickly. She reached underneath his back and felt the exit wound. It appeared that the blood had coagulated, but too late. He had lost too much blood. She felt for a vein in his forearm and grabbing a packet of electrolytes, started an old fashioned IV in his arm.

Riker looked on in surprise. "Are you using a needle?"

Crusher held up a hand in irritation. "I don't need an audience," she retorted. "I'm using the resources we have." She popped a vial of potassium into her hypo spray and injected it into his neck.

Riker nodded apologetically and moved back, waving the crowd of concerned crew member's back. It was at that moment he realized the majority of crew that were with them on deck ten were civilians. What had happened to all the combat and emergency trained crew members? Had they joined Doulos?

Guinan stayed next to Beverly, still looking down at Picard. "I know it looks bad, Doctor. But believe me, it could have been worse," she insisted.

"Well yes, it _could_ have been worse…he _could_ have died."

Guinan smiled slightly and glanced down at Picard. "No," he whispered opening his eyes again.

Beverly reached out and gripped his hand tightly. His grip was so weak it frightened her. "What did you say? Stay with me, Jean-Luc." He closed his eyes again. She beckoned Nurse Ogawa over to her. "Alyssa, we need a blood transfusion."

"Doctor, we don't have the equipment here necessary to—"

Beverly quickly drew a vial of his blood and handed it to her. "Find a way. You can program the replicator. I'm counting on you, Alyssa."

"Yes, Doctor," the woman said, hurrying away with the vial.

Crusher took a deep breath, and looked at Guinan. "Thank you. You were true to your word. You brought him back…."

"He would have done the same for me," Guinan replied.


	36. Chapter 36

**Chapter 36**

 **El-Auria 2264**

"Demetrius! Demetrius! Throw it to me!" She jogged up the hill behind him. Hara was always yelling orders at him. Just because she was eleven cycles and he was ten, she thought she was in charge. She was his best friend, but he didn't want to play right now. He wanted to be alone. Demetrius frowned and kicked the dirt, tossing the spinning disc high into the air. It fell back down from the sky, and wrapped obediently around his wrist.

"It doesn't want to play with you, it wants to play with _me_ ," he shouted back to her. "See?" he taunted, holding up his wrist to show her and sticking out his tongue. She made an insulting gesture toward him with her hand. The truth was the bright orange disc-bot wanted to play with whoever it was programmed to play with. It had originally been programmed to for his little sister to use, but he had re-programmed it so that it responded to him. She hadn't noticed it was missing yet.

"You're stupid," Hara yelled at him.

He shrugged and walked away from her. That was when he saw it. A sliver of light standing on top of the hill. It looked like a silver string, suspended in mid-air. As he walked toward it, the string began to spin and within moments it was a silver disc spinning in mid-air. He stared at it in awe, because it made his sister's disc-bot look like a baby toy. He walked slowly toward it.

"What is it?" Hara shouted, keeping her distance. "Get away from it, Demetrius!"

He reached out a quivering hand, stopping just short of touching it when he heard Hara scream at him again to get away from it. He spun around and pointed at her feeling a strangely exhilarating fury overtake him. "Go away!" he shouted at her.

She backed away from him slowly. "Demetrius…your eyes…they are black."

"So? Mind your own business, Hara, and leave me _alone_!" He waved his hand dismissively at her, and to his shock, his best friend disappeared never to be seen again.

* * *

"I do not know what to say to them," said the old man, wringing his hands as he paced back and forth. Guinan watched him with growing impatience, which of course she kept well hidden.

"Tell them the truth, Demetrius," she said. "Tell them your story."

"I just want to go to my home, teacher. It's been so long since we were there…together," he said, his eyes glistening with emotion. He stared out of the view port.

"Our people left El-Auria just a few years after you disappeared, Demetrius. Life there just wasn't sustainable after the Borg. They destroyed everything that was beautiful—everything that we loved. You know that."

"Yes," he said with a suddenly hard voice. "Yes, I do know."

Guinan folded her hands in front of her. "And so you must understand that there is no old home to return to."

"Then what am I to do? Stay a prisoner on this ship like the rest of you?" he suddenly snarled at her.

Guinan was unmoved. "Eventually you will make a new home somewhere. But none of us are getting out of this situation until we trust one another. To us this is no prison…it is our home. And right now, no one here has a reason to trust you, Demetrius. So you need to give them reason to. Right now they see you as a stranger who is possibly responsible for all of this."

"I _am_ responsible!" he shouted, now visibly distraught again. He brought his hand up to his mouth and bit his knuckles in an attempt to stop them from shaking.

She moved to him and helped him to sit down. "Now, Demetrius, you and I both know that is not entirely true. But you do need to tell them what happened to you. And I think you need to tell them, as much as they need to hear it."

He looked down at the table and nodded slowly. Then something seemed to occur to him. "How is your friend?" he asked, too ashamed to look directly at Guinan. "The one—the one who was going to take my place."

"Captain Picard is going to survive," said Guinan resolutely. "But he may never be the same."

He dropped his head into his shaking hands. "They must hate me," he said in a low voice.

"We don't _know_ you," said a gentle voice. Counselor Troi walked towards the table holding to cups of something hot. She sat down and pushed one in the direction of the old man. "Do you like chocolate?" she asked.

"I don't know," he said innocently, looking up at Guinan for guidance.

She clapped him on the shoulder. "You will…it tastes just like _abul_."

His eyes lit up. " _Abul_? That is my favorite food."

Guinan smiled before leaving them to talk.

* * *

Pritchard ducked down behind a huge boulder and turned his back to it sitting down. He holstered his revolver and looked at Guinan. "We're gonna have some trouble traveling incognito from here on in," he said.

Guinan gave him a puzzled look. "In cog...what?"

"Under cover," he offered, returning her gaze for a moment, and then shook his head. "Never mind" he said, getting up to look quickly again. He sat back down heavily. "They're bringing the railroad through here, Guinan. That means the hills are going to be crawling with railroad men, prospectors, and who knows who else, so we're gonna be noticed whether we like it or not. Which means no more sneakin' around."

"So what do you suggest?"

"We need a story...no one will believe a thing we say anyway," he said.

"So, if I tell people we meet that I'm an alien traveling through multiple dimensions, that won't raise any suspicion, is that what you're saying?"

"Alien?" he asked with a look of confusion.

"Never mind," she said.

He continued to stare at her and it was clear that his mind was at work. "Do you have any skills?"

"Well...I'm a teacher which certainly requires a lot of skill. And some say I'm a good listener," she added.

"No one is gonna believe a school teacher is roaming around the Black Hills. Especially with the likes of me…."

She shrugged and leaned back against the rock. "I'm listening…what's your plan, Pritchard?"

He rubbed his hands together. "Bill Loomey's loot. We've still got enough do dads and medicine bottles from those goods we heisted from him to convince toms idiot we've got something to sell. Just enough to distract them." He smiled widely as though very proud of himself. "That's it. If anyone asks, we're in sales."

"Sales?"

He grinned and put a grimy hand on her knee. "Trust me."

She smiled back at him. "For some reason, I think that will be the easy part."

* * *

Beverly yawned and got up from her hunched position next to the bed to stretch out her stiff back. Thankfully they had been able to move Jean-Luc to someone's abandoned quarters, so that he could recover from his ordeal in privacy. He was feverish, and she had only been moderately successful in bringing it down to slightly less than dangerous levels. But for now she was satisfied by his progress. His wound had been nearly fatal, and the amount of blood loss still horrified her. Being a professional she had attempted to remain objective, but it hadn't worked this time—not completely. She was too close to him now, and he had been too close to death for her to ever see him like she had before he had disappeared.

She sighed, sitting back down. His face was so pale; nothing of his normally hearty complexion was present. Even so he seemed peaceful now, and it set her more at ease than she had been earlier. She realized that she had never before been able to watch him while he was sleeping for any lengthy period of time until now. Granted, his sleep was chemically induced, but still….She reached out to trace her fingers down his cheek. "Finally, we're alone again," she said quietly. "Look at what we have to go through to get a few moments alone, Jean-Luc. Just doesn't seem fair, does it?"

"Unh," he mumbled, but his eyes did not open.

"Oh really?" She smiled faintly. "I'll take that as your agreement then. Maybe the one bright spot here is that we're not arguing for the moment." She leaned forward and kissed him on the forehead, before standing up again. She walked away from the bed toward the door, turning back to look at him one more time before she slipped through the door. Once out in the corridor she nodded at the security officer, who stood silently nearby. Then she froze. Something strange caused her to hesitate. She didn't want to leave him. She decided she would check on him one more time.

She turned and walked back in and then froze again. A woman was in the room with him. Her back was turned to Beverly. A bizarre purple halo surrounded the woman's slim figure. Something was so familiar about her, and yet her presence was almost frightening. The woman reached out to touch Jean-Luc's face.

"What are you doing here?" Beverly demanded, walking forward quickly. "Don't you dare touch him!" She reached out to grab the woman's arm, but her hand passed through it, as though she were a hologram. The figure stopped in mid-motion and then turned to look at her. Beverly brought her hand to her face involuntarily and backed up, bumping into the wall. She felt dizzy and the sound of her pulse pounded in her ears.

"I am sorry," said the woman. "I did not mean to frighten you."

"Y-you…." Beverly stammered, unable to get out the words.

"I know this must be very strange for you," said Orla. "If you would like, I can change my appearance to something more pleasing to you," she offered.

"Why—why do you look like me?"

The doors hissed open and Guinan stepped inside. Beverly turned to her, still in shock. "I see you've met my mother," Guinan said mildly.

Beverly's eyebrows shot up and she shrank back further, bracing herself against the wall. _"What?"_

"Mother," said Guinan, walking toward Orla. "You should not have come to us this way. Can't you see you've frightened my friend?"

"I wanted to see John."

Beverly's mouth dropped open. " _John?"_

"You knew he survived, Mother. You didn't need to come here to see him. Not in this way."

Orla smiled. "But I love him."

* * *

 **Hello, thanks for reading and for reviewing. I am glad to hear people enjoy this story. -PP**


	37. Chapter 37

**Chapter 37**

* * *

There was a flash of purple light and the woman identical in appearance to Beverly Crusher simply disappeared. Beverly turned to Guinan. " _What_? She can't just-just say something like that and then disappear without explanation!"

"There has always been a difference between what Orla _can_ do and what she _should_ do," said Guinan.

"Orla…your mother is Orla…Orla is your mother," Beverly shook her head in confusion. Her head was spinning with questions.

"Yes. And unfortunately, Orla is an expert at disappearing; she disappeared from the El Aurian people when we needed her most, allowing the Other to rule over us for centuries—centuries before I was born. And then after I was born she disappeared from my life, from my father's life—just as she disappeared from John Pritchard's. But she is also an expert at re-appearing. And there is no doubt that right about now, we need her help."

Beverly didn't seem to hear everything Guinan said. "John Pritchard?" she echoed. She looked over at Jean-Luc, his chest rising and falling, proving again that he was still alive, but still weak and murmuring in a fitful sleep. She looked back at Guinan with a question in her eyes.

Guinan gave her a strange look. Was it discomfort? "I'm sorry, but it's a long story, Doctor."

Beverly spread her arms wide in exasperation. "It seems as though none of us are going anywhere, Guinan." She let her arms fall back down to her sides and sat down clasping her hands in her lap. "Guinan, I need to know what is going on here…even if it is a long story."

Guinan moved to sit down across from her. "Fine. But I can't promise it will make much sense."

* * *

Commander Riker had asked them to try to determine the source of what appeared to be an energy field on the outer edges, deck, and ceiling of Deck 10. The field was a puzzle. It appeared to be protecting them in some way, and yet they could pass through it and back again without any apparent harm, and without compromising the field strength.

"So what's going on between you and that Romulan lady?" Wesley asked, wielding a scanner. They stood next to one of the stairwells that had once been a turbo lift. LaForge glanced up at his young friend from a crouching position. His tricorder recorded any modulations in the field strength. "She's not exactly a lady," he muttered.

"Yeah, but you like her right? I mean, it's kind of obvious, Geordi."

 _I thought she liked me too_ , Geordi thought. _Wrong as usual, LaForge_. He pressed his lips together and reached behind him to grab a hand-held phase compensator. He activated the tool and held it up to the invisible field. "So? Anyway, nothing could ever come of it, Wes. She's a Romulan…remember?"

Wesley shrugged and began sorting through some of the readings on his scanner. "So if she's an enemy…what is she doing here with us on Deck 10, while a bunch of other crew members are running around like maniacs, threatening to kill us?"

Geordi sighed and stood up, clicking his tricorder shut. "Good question. Why are half of my engineering crew missing, Wes? I hope we find out soon."

"No but Geordi, think about it. If Saris is so hostile, then why didn't she join Doulos, or whatever his name is, instead of staying with us?"

"I don't know Wes. What about all the other crew members who were our friends, who we thought were loyal to Captain Picard—to Starfleet. Why did they join Doulos? To be honest with you, I don't think worrying about it is a good use of our time."

Wesley smiled and nodded. "You're right. Besides, Commander Riker is going to be expecting a report on this energy field soon."

* * *

"What are we going to do about this weapons shortage, Data?" Riker leaned against the bar in Ten Forward and regarded his second in command. Data was drinking an oddly colored grey substance from a glass. Riker made a face, wrinkling his nose distastefully. "What is that stuff you're drinking, by the way?"

Data finished swallowing the liquid and then put the glass down delivering a dramatic "ahh" sound, as though whatever he had ingested had been extremely refreshing. He turned deliberately to Riker with a small smile. "As you know, Commander I do not require sustenance, however the recent loss of my cranial unit…"

Riker broke into a slow smile. "Your head?"

"Yes. The recent loss of my head has led to minor inefficiencies in my operating systems, requiring me to ingest a poly-lubricant."

Riker's smile widened and clapped Data on the back. "Glad you are taking care of yourself, Data."

Data raised an eyebrow. 'Thank you, Commander. Now, to answer your query about our weapons shortage-"

Riker tapped his fingers on the bar in front of him. "Never mind, Data, I was just thinking out loud."

"So you do not want to resolve the weapons shortage problem…"

"Data…of _course_ I do. I was thinking of trying to override the safety protocols on one of the Ten Forward replicators, but I know it's a long shot."

Data nodded. "If, by overriding the protocols you plan on programming the replicator to replicate phaser weapons, I do agree with you, Commander Riker…it will be a long shot."

Riker looked at him seriously. "I know the replicators were designed to block that kind of thing—for obvious reasons—ethical reasons-but we've got to protect ourselves." He studied Data's face, which just a few years ago upon their first meeting had seemed so expressionless to him. But now, he could read Data as well as he could read anyone else on the ship. "You don't think it's worth the risk, do you?"

Data looked at him. "No. By attempting to convert the replicators to a use not originally intended for them we would run the risk of damaging them beyond repair. In fact the risk that they would be damaged to the point of uselessness is 87.2 percent, Commander."

Riker held up a hand. "Okay, I get it, Data. We can't risk losing our main food source. But if we are going to take our ship back, we are going to have to do much more than just survive. We'll have to find another way."

* * *

"Orla may love Captain Picard, Doctor. But he does not love her. In fact, he does not know her any more than you do."

"But then why does she look like me?"

"Orla-long before she was my mother, or anyone else's, or anyone's spouse or lover, has always longed for a normal life. In a sense, she longs to be mortal, something she can never be. She has romanticized the idea of being mortal in much the same way that we mortals fantasize what it must be like to be immortal—to be a god."

"Orla is a god then? Like Q?"

Guinan smiled. "A god or god-like is as good a way to describe her as any," she said. "But like Q…no, not quite. Anyway…she has longed to be normal and most of all to have normal love."

"But who even knows what that means?" Beverly said with a quizzical frown.

"Good point. Clearly, Orla does not. The reason she took on your appearance was because she looked into the heart of John Pritchard and saw that the woman he loved, and would always love, was you."

Beverly felt the sting of tears in her eyes, but didn't try and wipe them away. As strange and unbelievable as this story was a deep part of her understood it. She was grateful for the clarity this was bringing to her.

"So…all of those times Jean-Luc told me he had a special relationship with you…that he had known you for years. Is this what he was talking about? That he knew you as John Pritchard?"

Guinan looked over at Captain Picard's still form. "Yes and no. We have had a good many adventures together. But if you were to wake him up right now, and ask him who John Pritchard was, he wouldn't be able to tell you. John Pritchard was just as much his own person as Jean-Luc Picard is. Are they linked? Of course. But are they the same person? Not quite. I suppose you could say that while I have known Jean-Luc Picard for many years, I have known _him_ for many more years than he has known me." She looked at Beverly. "He has saved my life more times than I would like to admit. It is the one relationship I would never change."

"You love him then?" Beverly ventured.

"Of course. But not in the way that you love him, and that he loves you. I love him because we have an unbreakable friendship. But as Orla has demonstrated, your love has transcended time and space. You were meant to be together."

To her own surprise, Beverly laughed, mostly out of relief, and because somehow she had just been reminded of something true that she had always known, but had been long buried.

"What happened to John?" Beverly asked, her voice nearly a whisper. To her surprise, Guinan stood up quickly.

"I don't think I'm ready to tell that part of the story, Doctor." She nodded. "I'll see you later."

* * *

When Guinan had left, Beverly walked slowly back over to where Jean-Luc was sleeping. She felt his brow, and found to her dismay that it was moist with perspiration. His fever was back, and he tossed and turned in a restless nightmare. She hated to think of him dreaming of pain, of being stabbed with that evil blade. She put her hand gently on his shoulder, and then ran it down the length of his arm, taking his hand. She squeezed it, and then reached over to examine the wound on his lower abdomen. It had missed his vital organs, somehow; the only lucky thing about the wound, if you could call such a painful near miss lucky. She smiled to herself and wondered if Orla had been protecting him even then. Suddenly he sat up with a shout, gripping his side. He looked around the room wildly before focusing on her right in front of him. "Beverly!" He took a halting breath and it seemed to catch in his chest. He exhaled, and reached his arm out to touch her. "It was just a dream—or is this dream? I—I don't know," he rasped in confusion.

"No, no, Jean-Luc, it _was_ a dream. But I'm real," she said, taking both his hands in hers. "And I'm here to stay." She sat down on the edge of the bed. The sheets were soaked with sweat. "Stay here," she said, and moved to where she had left a fresh change of sheets. Bringing them over, she had him move carefully to one side of the bed and then the other as she changed the sheets. After giving him some water to drink she encouraged him to lie down again. As rough as he looked, she was inwardly elated that he was awake and alert, if disoriented. It was the best kind of sign she could have hoped for.

"How is the pain?" she asked grabbing a hypo.

He swallowed and lifted his hand shakily to his side. "It burns," he said. She grabbed his hand and placed it back at his side.

"Try not to touch it, Jean-Luc. we only have limited supplies right now, and I don't want it to become infected."

He tried to sit up again. "Where's Riker? I need a status report…."

She pushed him back down gently. "The only report you need is a clean bill of health, and you don't have that yet, Captain. You're going to stay here until you are well enough. Will has it under control."

He did as she said, but his eyes seemed to focus suddenly and a look of terror crossed his face. "Riker! I injured him. Is he alright?"

She smiled down at him. "Yes, he's recovered very well." She bent down and injected the hypo into his neck.

He sighed. "Thanks to you, no doubt. I need to apologize to him…to everyone."

"Jean-Luc, everyone who needs to know, knows that you were under the control of something very powerful. But you're back now, which is all that matters." She looked at him and knew that it was too soon to explain to him that half the crew had defected to Doulos, and that the rest of his crew was trapped on Deck 10.

No, if she told him that, she would have to literally wrestle him to keep him in bed. She cursed herself mentally, as the images that created in her mind didn't disturb her as much as they probably should have. Instead the idea stimulated her. She suddenly felt selfish for thinking about sex, when he was so ill. She ran a finger over his eyebrow. "I've really missed you," she said. "I truly hope you don't have any plans to go anywhere, Jean-Luc."

"No," he said quietly. "Not as long as you are here." With some effort, he moved over to his left and then patted the bed next to him. She smiled and got in next to him.

* * *

"How are you feeling?" Troi asked gently. Demetrius had finished his hot chocolate quickly, but had said very little.

He stared into the bottom of his mug as though wishing there were more.

"I am sure we can get you another cup, if you would like," Troi said.

Demetrius smiled. "Thank you. I have not eaten real food in many years. You are very kind to me." His smile faded and he looked back into his empty cup. "I feel very…out of place."

"That is understandable. My sense is that you have been isolated for many years."

"That is true," agreed Demetrius.

"Why? Where have you been?"

Demetrius looked away. "I do not want to say. Not until…."

"Until what, Demetrius?"

"I want to know what happened to my parents. I must know; did they survive?"

Deanna straightened. "Demetrius, I don't know what happened to your parents."

"My teacher knows. Where is she?" he glanced around them.

To Deanna's surprise Guinan entered Ten Forward at that moment and approached to stand next to them. "I'm here, Demetrius. Now what is it you want to know?"

"Are my parents alive?"

Guinan pulled up a chair and sat down next to him. Troi watched the interplay between them curiously. Demetrius looked very old compared to Guinan, and yet he seemed very much the student he claimed to be, sitting there in front of her.

Guinan glanced at Troi and then back to the old man. "What do you think, Demetrius?" Troi looked at her with silent alarm. Why was she asking him what he thought? Clearly the old man did not seem to know, or at least he seemed desperate for the truth. Or perhaps he was just desperate to hear that his parents were alive. Yes, as Troi watched him she sensed that his fear of finding that his parents might be dead grew, as he and Guinan continued to stare silently at each other.

"Tell me teacher, do they live?"

"Demetrius, you saw your parents die in front of you. And you are asking me if they are alive? Why?"

"He—he told me that they could be redeemed, that they could be saved."

"The Other is the king of all liars, Demetrius. And until you come to terms with what happened to your parents and what happened to you, you will be forever living a lie."

* * *

Bring the new one to me," boomed Doulos. "He is different from the others."

Ensign Barnes bowed his head. "Yes, Sire. He is a Klingon and will be a very powerful asset to you in battle."

"Hmm…a Klingon." He was not sure he was familiar with that species. "And the female Klingon?"

"She escaped, Sire. No doubt she will attempt to join the other insurgents."

"Let her go. She will come to regret her choice not to join us."

"Yes, Sire," Barnes agreed confidently.

"Where have the insurgents retreated to?" Doulos demanded.

"Deck 10, Sire," said Barnes. "But for some reason we have not been able to penetrate the energy shield of unknown origin, present in the entry points on Deck 10. The insurgents pass in and out of it with no effort."

" _Find_ the reason," shouted Doulos. "They must be made to join us, or they must die."

"Yes, my Lord."

"Now that Picard is dead, and I have be-headed the mechanical one, I must know who the leader is."

"Sire, that would be Commander Riker, but as far as I know he is still injured. Assuming he is not yet back on duty, next in command would be the Chief Medical Officer; Doctor Crusher."

Doulos stood up from his throne and stretched his broad shoulders. He stepped down and walked to one of the fountains along the wall. The water pouring out of the wall was crystal clear, but the pool it emptied into was black. He leaned over and stared into it. "Beverly Crusher…my one true love," he whispered, and an image of her face appeared in the pool. He reached into the pool as if trying to touch her face, but the image shimmered and then disappeared. Frustrated, Doulos' clenched his hand into a fist underwater. His master was teasing him. He quelled a rage that threatened to rise inside his chest. He must not question his master. But….

Barnes walked up behind him. "Yes…Beverly Crusher. You know her Sire?"

Doulos spun around and struck Barnes in the side of the face with the back of his fist, making a wet smacking sound. Doulos' followers who stood at various points around the former bridge watched as Barnes fell to the floor heavily. He scrambled backward as Doulos stalked toward him and grabbed a handful of Barnes' hair, pulling him up to his feet. Barnes cried out in pain.

"Do not utter her name out loud. Do not even _think_ of her!" Doulos shook Barnes back and forth with the force of his wrist like a rag doll.

"I—I am sorry, Sire. I did not mean any offense," Barnes choked, cowering.

Doulos growled and tossed the man away into a sobbing heap before rising to his full height to address the onlookers. "A reward goes to the one who lures Beverly Crusher out of the safety of the energy field on Deck Ten. Once she is outside of the field you must notify me discreetly so that I may appear. If I find that anyone here has even _touched_ her, make no mistake that you will die very painfully by my hand."


	38. Chapter 38

**Chapter 38**

"Doulos," the voice beckoned. "Come here."

Doulos rose from his throne obediently and walked to the fountain protruding from the wall. He stared into the dark pool, which grew still as he gazed into it.

A cloaked figure appeared inside the pool, and walked toward him slowly as if it were a dream. "Doulos," said the figure. "Are you not my most loyal servant?"

"Yes, master," said Doulos, mesmerized by the appearance and voice of the Other.

"Then you must focus always on my wants and desires, Doulos…not your own."

Doulos bowed his head, but said nothing.

"You feel shame. So you acknowledge you have placed your needs above mine. That is not an act befitting the leader of my army, Doulos."

"I am sorry, master. I will obey."

"Do not forget, Doulos, if I want to destroy Beverly Crusher I can do so with no effort."

Doulos' eyes narrowed as he stared into the pool.

"You do not appreciate my words, Doulos…."

"I love her, master."

"I see…as long as she has a purpose, then I will allow her to live. But clinging to this woman will make you weak, Doulos. Picard was weak, and chose to defy me. And look what happened to him."

Doulos clenched his giant fist. "I destroyed him."

"No, Doulos…he lives."

Doulos gripped the sides of the fountain. " _What?"_

"He lives, and at this moment he is with Beverly Crusher. How does that make you feel?"

Doulos gripped the rim of the fountain so tightly that it cracked under his grip. He closed his eyes. "I will kill him. And this time I _will not_ fail."

"Good, Doulos. I believe you. Now you must listen to me carefully."

"Yes, master."

"I have discovered the source of the energy field that holds you at bay. It is the work of my creator. At every turn she seeks to prevent me from claiming what is mine: dominion over this universe."

"You have a creator?" Doulos was in awe.

"Yes. All beings must originate from something. And sometimes we must destroy that which created us, Doulos, so that we can be free. Do you understand?"

Doulos nodded.

"We will travel to the end of the universe, Doulos. And there you and the others on this ship must be willing to make the ultimate sacrifice. Do you understand?"

Doulos knelt down and bowed his head. "Yes, I understand."

* * *

"The Enterprise appears to be preparing to break orbit, Chancellor," announced Security Chief Targ.

Chancellor K'mpec had just entered the security command center of the capital city on Qo'nos. Having finished the second of several dinners he had planned for that evening, he had taken a tour through the city streets on his personal hover pad, before deciding to take another look at the latest curiosity; a Federation starship that had turned to stone.

"Break orbit? _Look_ at it Targ, how is that possible?"

Targ looked at the view screen. In fact he had been looking at the same image for a few days now. The once sleek grey starship was now encased in some sort of black shell. The nacelles and drive section of the ship were nowhere to be seen, and whatever was left-if anything- was inside of the glossy black stone-like shell.

"I do not know, Chancellor. The shell is impenetrable to our sensors and it appears to be mineraloid in its consistency."

"You mean to say it is a rock," said K'mpec.

"Yes sir."

"Then how do you know it is planning to leave orbit?"

"Look sir!"

Sure enough, a bluish white light suddenly discharged from underneath the black disc and it lifted vertically, hovering in one place.

K'mpec did not attempt hide his increasing surprise at this new turn of events. "Distance from Qo'nos?"

"Sixty thousand kellicams...three hundred twenty thousand kellicams...it is moving away very quickly, sir!" Targ exclaimed.

"Targ?"

"Yes, Chancellor?"

"Have you notified Starfleet authorities of...this?"

"Yes, Chancellor K'mpec. An admiral I contacted claimed she would send a rescue vessel within 16 Federation hours, sir."

"Well then..." said K'mpec still watching the view screen. "It appears that they will be too late."

* * *

When Beverly awoke Jean Luc's head was on her shoulder and his breathing was shallow. She could not help but feel that there was someone in the room with them. Had Orla returned? If so, what did she want with them? She felt suddenly protective of him and wrapped her arm tightly around him.

"Oh, how sweet. I would say get a room, but it appears you have already found one..."

There was a flash and someone or rather something now sat on the foot of the bed. "Oh your instincts are admirable, Doctor," he said. "But they are ill-placed. Of all the superior beings you have encountered recently, I am the only one you have reason to trust."

"Q!" Beverly struggled to sit up, but Jean-Luc was heavy, and she settled for holding onto him more tightly.

"Again, your efforts are wasted on protecting him from me. And from what I can tell, you may have more to worry about than he does."

"What do you mean?" Beverly demanded.

Q waved off her question. "Wake him up."

She glared at Q, but shook Picard gently. "Jean Luc...Jean-Luc, wake up..."

Q rolled his eyes and walked around the edge of the bed. "Honestly, why do I even allow you the illusion of thinking you are doing things on your own terms. Too slow!" he declared snapping his fingers.

"Ah!" Picard cried out and sat up in bed rather abruptly. Beverly grabbed him by the shoulders to steady him. He winced and grabbed his side and then his eyes adjusted and fixed on Q. "Q!"

"Is there really any other letter of your alphabet that matters, Picard?" Q said casually, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"Q…what the hell are you doing here?" Picard asked, sitting forward groggily.

"I might ask you the same thing, Picard. Really, taking a nap with your Chief Medical Officer? Is that even permitted in your beloved manual of Starfleet regulations?"

"Oh, shut up Q," Picard and Crusher said together.

Q's eyes glinted in the dim light as he stared at them. "Enough chit chat. I won't shut up. Not until you have both heard what I have to say. Actually Crusher, feel free to leave if you like…nap time is over for now."

Beverly clenched her jaw and folded her arms over her chest defensively. "There is no possible way I am going to leave him alone with you," she snapped.

Q shrugged and stretched out on the bed, resting on an elbow. "Suit yourself," he said. He fixed his gaze on Picard. "Jean-Luc Picard, I wish I had met you sooner…because if I had I would have warned you never to consort with El-Aurians."

"Guinan? Why?" Picard demanded.

"Because many years ago, she was given a choice—to hand the pieces of the Other over to me, and instead she chose to bring them to Orla. Now, the consequences of her poor decision making are coming to fruition."

Beverly glanced at Jean-Luc and grabbed his hand. Picard stared at Q. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that this ship, or what's left of it—"

Picard sat up straighter. "What's left of it—what are you talking about? What have you done to my _ship_ , Q?" His voice suddenly sounded stronger, as though confronting Q was just what he needed to gain a little more strength.

"Oh, your beloved _ship_ ," Q said mockingly. He nodded to Beverly. "You know you'll never be able to compete…" he said in a low voice as if confiding in her. She glared back at him silently. He smiled and turned his attention back to Picard. "Picard, I haven't done anything to your ship. And if you hadn't been in here dying, and otherwise wasting time, you would know that."

"He hasn't been _dying_ ," snapped Beverly. Her expression softened a bit when she looked at Jean-Luc, and she rubbed her hand on his back supportively. He smiled faintly, but didn't look at her.

"Indeed…." Q looked from one to the other, and seemed about to say something, but reconsidered after a moment. "Let's get down to it, Picard. This ship is being taken to the far edges of what you call your 'universe'. You are powerless to prevent it from happening, because as I mentioned, your friend _Guinan_ has already set these proverbial wheels in motion."

"So if we are powerless to prevent it, then why are you even telling us, Q?" Picard demanded.

"Because once you have reached the destination, you must act accordingly to prevent the inevitable, Picard."

"And if I don't act…accordingly?" And how was he to know how to act? Of course he wasn't about to ask Q such a question, because he knew he wouldn't be provided with an answer; just more condescension.

"Then you can kiss the universe as you know it—including me, goodbye."

"I have no intention of allowing that to happen, Q," Picard declared, tossing the covers aside and getting up out of bed.

Q smiled and then looked on with convincing concern. "Does that mean I won't get my kiss, Picard?"

* * *

"Are you prepared to face the consequences of your decision, El-Aurian?"

Guinan looked up from behind the bar as Q's light floated above her. Even in his pure and beautiful form he was obnoxious. "What are you talking about Q? Oh wait…let me guess…" she said mildly.

"You should have given the pieces to me all those years ago," he said, still floating.

"But I didn't," she said. "I brought them to Orla, as I was told to do by my grandmother."

"And so Orla still has them in her possession."

"Of course," said Guinan. "As if you didn't know."

"So then where do you think the Other is going next?"

"Orla is here, I have seen her. The Other doesn't have to go anywhere to find her if he wants to."

"But those manifestations of Orla that have appeared on this ship are not really her, Guinan. And she is somewhere to be found. And with her are the pieces of the Other. So tell me now, are you prepared to face the consequences of your decision?"

The calm expression on Guinan's face faltered only slightly. "Yes," she said firmly. "And he won't defeat Orla," she said with a confidence she didn't really feel.

"I suppose we will see, when you get there," said Q. "Or to put it another way, if he _does_ defeat Orla, then none of us will be seeing anything quite the same way again."


	39. Chapter 39

**Chapter 40**

"What are you doing, Jean-Luc? Where are you going?" Beverly demanded to know. He had shuffled away from her, but paused at her words. She reached out a hand to steady him as he swayed slightly to the left.

"You heard Q," he reminded her, and resisted clutching at his left side again. Instead he resumed his slow pace and limped over to the replicator. He promptly ordered himself a uniform as though it were a normal day.

Beverly followed him, unwilling to back down. "I don't care what Q said-you are _not_ well! And you seem to have conveniently ignored the fact that he just told you that you can't prevent the ship being taken to the far reaches of the universe. So what is your plan, Jean-Luc? You can barely stand!"

He turned to her. "Has it occurred to you that he might have told us all of that just to get me out of bed? That is the way his mind works-if he has anything _resembling_ what we would call a mind. Besides…I want to know what has happened while I have been out of commission, so to speak."

Beverly placed a hand on his shoulder. "Jean Luc, you've been through so much in just a matter of days..."

"All the more reason for me to get back to work," he said turning back to the replicator. To his surprise, a bathrobe had shimmered into existence instead of a uniform. He repeated the order and this time a pair of boots appeared, but still no uniform. How odd. He turned slowly back to face her. "Beverly...what are you keeping from me? What happened while I was away?"

She stared at him silently for a moment, and just as he began to turn away again, she blurted out, "Something horrible is happening on the ship, Jean-Luc. It's not the ship we knew…not anymore."

"What?" He braced himself against the replicator. He felt dizzy and closed his eyes. When he did this, memories of the fight with Doulos began to flood back to him. He felt himself beginning to fall.

"Jean-Luc!" Beverly jumped forward to catch him. He opened his eyes and they were foggy and disoriented. She felt his forehead, and it was dry and hot, confirming that his fever was back. "Here, let me help you." She gripped his arm firmly and guided him back to bed. He sat down reluctantly, but as the room seemed to spin around him, he knew she was right. He was in no shape to take anyone on yet. But the more he sat in silent thought, the more anxious he became, because he knew who he would have to face…again.

Picard looked up at Beverly, who stood looking down at him worriedly. She stroked his cheek gently with her hand. "It's Doulos, isn't it?" He asked her. "He has taken over my ship." He suddenly gripped her hand that was touching his face. "He thinks I am dead, and he's taken over my ship!"

She held his face in her hands, trying to calm him down. "Shh…yes. He has invaded the ship—but he hasn't taken it over—not yet. But according to Guinan, the Other is transforming the Enterprise and its technology into some kind of fortress for this Doulos person. Here on Deck 10 we are still protected—we think by Orla." She glanced over at the replicator. "But judging by that replicator malfunction, that protection might not be perfect."

He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against her abdomen. She sighed and stroked the back of his head and neck. Suddenly he stiffened. "Have you seen Doulos? Has he seen you?" he asked pulling his head back to look up at her again.

"No." She looked at him and shook her head in confusion. She smiled nervously at the intense expression on his face.

He gripped both of her hands to his chest and her smile disappeared. "Beverly, you must promise me not to venture outside of Deck 10. In fact…I order you not to."

She studied his face and then frowned. "Alright…" she agreed trustingly. "But why?"

"That morning of the day I disappeared…you asked me if I remembered what had happened between us the night before."

"Jean-Luc," Beverly said, sitting down next to him on the bed. "We don't have to talk about this—"

"Beverly, it wasn't me that night with you…it was Dolous. He told me so, right before he defeated me and ran me through with that sword."

A cold feeling entered her heart. Somehow she had known, the minute he had told her that morning that he couldn't remember. But with his disappearance she had buried the disturbing notion, until now. She looked down at her hands. "I don't know what to say. I felt you, Jean-Luc. I thought it was you."

His mind scrambled over itself, dazed as he was, to set her mind at ease. "It _was_ me, physically at least, but my mind was not present. And now Doulos has entered our world, and he is fixated on you. I can't let him near you. That is why I don't want you to leave Deck 10."

"What does he want from me?" She faced him grimly.

He glanced away, and then forced himself to look at her again. "It's not safe," he said quietly.

Beverly continued to look at him. "So who is this person, Jean-Luc? And why was he inside your mind…and in our bed?"

He took her hand. "Doulos is part of me, Beverly…."

She brightened slightly. "So it was still you then…."

He shook his head, struggling to find a way to explain it without frightening her. "No…he is sort of a combination of all of the violent and evil parts of me, cobbled together by the Other, who was not satisfied with me and my unwillingness to bend to his will."

She leaned in to kiss him on the cheek softly. "I knew you wouldn't," she said proudly. "I knew you would beat him."

"It's far from over. But…I am still alive, so that is something, I suppose."

"It's more than something," she said. "It's everything."

* * *

Ambassador K'Ehleyr had not always been a diplomat. But it had been a while since she'd had a chance to hone her battle skills. So she found it exhilarating, if not very odd that she was fighting Starfleet officers with shaven heads on board the Federation flag ship. What she noticed first was that these were not normal humans. They possessed an unusual physical strength, and a single-mindedness; that is their only concern seemed to be an attempt to subdue her. Unfortunately for them she was a Klingon and not easily subdued.

She still had her disruptor, but her pride, and perhaps the diplomat within her hadn't allowed her to use it so far, aside from firing on Korok in the shuttle bay. She'd had little time to consider what had happened to him. She could only imagine that he had met the same fate as these poor fools. She spun and tossed another of the cloudy eyed security officers into a wall. He bounced off and then ran toward her again. As she kicked the man in the chest she silently hoped that there would be some way to break the spell...She preferred not to have to kill these people, as they were clearly driven by some unusual evil. Eventually they could be turned back to their former selves, and they would be shocked by their actions and filled with remorse. She did not want to experience a similar feeling of regret at how she herself had behaved during this odd time.

"Deck 10!" A running technician called out, pointing at her. It was clear he had been altered as were the three more goons who surrounded her. "She is headed for the refuge of the insurgents! Do not let her escape!"

K'Ehleyr growled, swiping at her attackers. Until that moment she'd had no idea where the Enterprise command officers had gone, or even if they had escaped the fate of those she had seen in the shuttle bay. Now she had a specific destination at least, and she assumed that Riker and the others had established some kind of stronghold on Deck 10. Momentarily distracted, K'Ehleyr staggered as a female officer leapt onto her back and attempted to choke her into submission. Crouching down as if she were going to fling herself forward, she flung the woman over her head and into the wall with a satisfying smack. She got to her feet again just as another one came running at her with a determined cry. Stepping to the side, she flung her arm out straight and the charging man was tossed to the ground.

Then around the corner came a tall bald headed warrior wearing the same tattoos as the leader from the shuttle bay. He grinned, revealing a mouthful of sharp teeth and pulled out a deadly looking knife. Two of the altered crew members jumped on K'Ehleyr, attempting to restrain her, as the warrior approached. She glowered at him, and swore in Klingon, pulling a knife from her own boot. She hadn't wanted to shed blood, but they seemed very serious about harming her. Suddenly there was a sickening thud and blood spattered against her face.

The approaching warrior fell forward, with a familiar looking crescent-shaped weapon sticking from his chest. She flung one of the clinging officers from her, and turned to see Worf jogging toward her. As he ran he shoved one of the altered crew men out of the way, and then planted a foot on the ribs of the dead warrior, yanking his bat'leth out of the man's broad chest. He turned to fight again, just as K'Ehleyr was putting the last enemy to sleep with a chokehold. The crew man sank to the floor unconscious, and K'Ehleyr stepped away from him, looking over at Worf. "It's about time you arrived, Worf. I was starting to consider really hurting someone."

"Do not worry," said Worf. "There will be time to fight again later. For now, we must report back to Commander Riker."

* * *

"What is this place?" Guinan asked, slowing Peaches to a walk. Ahead of them lay a dusty mess of a town alive with people, animals, and a mixture of mostly bad odors.

"This is Deadwood," said Pritchard. "Nice town, huh?"

Guinan sniffed in and made a face. "Not exactly the phrase that came to mind, but okay..."

Pritchard smiled. "Not to worry, we're just passin' through," he reassured her, as they urged the horses forward into the outskirts of the town.

"Who said I was worried?" shot back Guinan, ignoring the hard stares of some of the townsfolk.

"I find it hard to read your expression, "Pritchard admitted. "On account of you having no eyebrows to speak of."

"Hmm, that is interesting, because you are fairly easy for me to read, despite the fact that you have almost no hair on your head."

Pritchard mumbled something about people from the future, and then tipped his hat to a passing woman clad in fancy dress. The woman coyly glanced in his direction and then fluttered a paper fan she held in her hand as she passed. Pritchard continued to watch the woman as she daintily stepped into a nearby bar. He let out a low whistle.

Guinan coughed loudly, which barely caught his attention. "Why do I think you plan on doing more here than just passing through?"

He laughed. "You might be right, you just might be…."

* * *

 **2265**

"It's been a full cycle since she disappeared," he heard his mother say.

"Yes and how long is he going to mourn her?" his father questioned. "He stopped saying anything more than "hello" and "yes father" almost six rems ago."

"I can only guess that he feels guilt," offered his mother protectively.

"Guilt for what? He has never explained what happened that day. Hara's poor family wanted him charged with a crime. You know that they only gave up when there was no evidence to support she'd been killed."

"You and I both know Demetrius is not capable of killing. He is a gentle boy," insisted his mother.

"Yet very stubborn," replied his father. "And he never reveals what he is thinking."

"Yes, but there is still time to reach him. I am sure of it."

Demetrius sat locked in his room with his head on his desk. He was writing a letter to Hara. When he finished the letter, then and only then would he confide in his parents about what had really happened that day. How he had been selfish and had wished Hara would disappear—and then she simply had. Yes, he would finally tell them, even after so much time had passed.

But then something happened. The air grew still and quiet around him. Then there were shrill screams and then…dead silence. The shockwave blasted through the dwelling and pieces of the outside walls blew inward through his room. He flattened himself under a table and covered his ears. Another shockwave sent a beam through his room and out a window. Outside he could see pieces of objects floating in the air, as though all gravity had been suspended for the few moments the ordeal lasted. He ducked as a third wave caused the rest of his house to implode. The warmth of the blood from his ears coursed through his fingers as he clutched his hands to the sides of his head, trying in vain to stop the deafening vibration. Minutes passed, seeming like hours. Splintered wood and poly building materials surrounded him. Even tinier pieces of the same materials were embedded in his palms. He called out for his parents but there was no answer…then his sister. Again there was no answer. He pushed himself to his feet and found that the house had been flattened around him. It was no longer a protective structure, but was instead was just a heap.

He looked up and saw for the first time a sight he would never forget. The sky was grey and full of immense floating cubes. Periodically beams of white and green energy emitted from the cubes and struck some structures down. He watched in shock as the main communications tower in town in was sucked up into the air, and disappeared inside one of the cubes, as was the robotics plant, and several hover vehicles. Looking around him he could see that the air was still full of floating objects and debris.

Demetrius climbed over what had been his doorway, and somehow found where his sister's room had been. When he found her, he knew immediately that she was dead. She lay sprawled on the floor, covered by debris. And her neck was held at an unnatural angle. It occurred to him then that he had not spoken to her for a long time. And now he would never speak to her again. Stunned, he blinked and turned away, calling out for his parents again. Still they failed to answer him.

Then looking up above him, he saw two dark shapes spinning in the air above where the house had been. A beam of white energy passed over one of the shapes and as the body was illuminated he saw his father's frightened eyes staring down at him. The beam passed over his father again, as if studying him. His father opened his mouth as if to scream for Demetrius to help him, but Demetrius could hear nothing, as the shockwaves had damaged his ears. He could only watch, and he did watch, as a second beam, green in color incinerated his father's body instantly, sending a choking cloud of ash through the air. As he turned away in horror, he saw that the sky was filled with thousands of other bodies, awaiting the same fate as his father.

* * *

 **Hmm. I seem to be missing the next two chapters of this story in my archives. Hopefully I will be able to retrieve them soon so that I can post the rest. Thanks, -PP**


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